


McCormick and Testaburger Are Dead

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, Kenny McCormick/Red (background), Kenny McCormick/Tammy Warner (background), Wendy Testaburger/Stan Marsh (background), Wendy Testaburger/Token Black (background)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7734415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenny is pretty sure she means The Lion King 1½, but Wendy insists Rosencrantz and Guildenstern came out first. Either way, they both know they weren't the first two people to have their story unfold in the background of a far greater story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tom's Rhinoplasty

_“I’m sorry about your grandma.”_

“Huh?”

_“I said: I’m sorry about your grandma!”_

“I can’t understand you, freak! I told you to take that thing off if you wanted to talk to me!”

Kenny pulled down his hoodie and glared at Wendy. “You know you’re the only person who makes me do this, right?”

“I’m helping you overcome what developmental obstacle makes you feel the need to wear a hood all the time.”

He grinned and slid into the seat next to her. “I think I just like the hood, but let me know if you find anything out.”

The classroom had cleared out hours ago, but Ms. Ellen had seemed fine with Wendy’s excuse of “doing homework at her seat” and let her stay in the room after closing. She wasn’t really sure where she was supposed to go right now. She could go cry to Bebe; the makeover had failed, and Iraqi soldiers were proving harder to get in touch with than she’d anticipated. That felt like fully giving up. She could go home, but she’d undoubtedly just spend the whole time wondering about Stan’s date with Ms. Ellen. So she decided to sit in the classroom. At least there was something cool and special about being in schools at night.

That didn’t explain why Kenny would or could be on school afterhours. That kid managed to just be anywhere without causing much of a stir. “What are you doing here?”

“I was trying to tell you: _I’m sorry about your grandma_.”

 Wendy paused. God, she was such a bad granddaughter. It had been the last thing on her mind while Ms. Ellen stole her boyfriend. Kenny McCormick was a better granddaughter than she was. “Oh… thank you.”

 “Death only sucks for the living.”

Well, death didn’t suck so much when she had completely forgotten about it. God, she was the worst. Of course she should go home and be with her family right now! What the fuck was she doing staying in school? “That was… thank you for remembering, Kenny. That means a lot.”

“Of course, dude. This isn’t the kind of stuff to take lightly.”

“Are you secretly a philosopher under the hood?”

He grinned widely. “No, under the hood, I’m telling you that I _really_ hope this leather costume makes an appearance in our future.”

“You’re gross.”

“There’s no point in wearing it if you’re not trying to get a compliment, Wendy.”

She sighed and leaned back in the desk. “You really think I look pretty?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Dude, in about a year, I will be jacking it to this memory like twice a day.”

Wendy snorted. It was an especially ugly laugh of hers that only came out when she didn’t want to admit she found Kenny’s sex jokes funny. Kenny couldn’t deny he felt a twinge of pride in his chest every time he got Wendy to laugh like that, in a way that was special just for him. “Stan doesn’t think I look pretty.” Wendy frowned. “He’s too busy barfing over Ms. Ellen.”

“I can _guarantee_ Stan thinks you look pretty.”

“Not as pretty as Ms. Ellen!”

“You can both be hot, you know? Actually, I can confirm that you both _are_ hot.”

Wendy didn’t want to bother explaining that it didn’t work that way with Stan. Stan was puppy love at its most puppy. A puppy had no love like it had for its owner. It felt a little wrong to refer to a girlfriend as Stan’s owner, but Stan could be incredibly dedicated only to one person at a time. Now it was gonna be Ms. Ellen. “He’s gonna break up with me for her.”

Kenny laughed. “Why would a hot adult want to date a nine-year-old? Chef’s gonna stick his big salty chocolate balls in her or something, then she’ll be over all of us.”

“I can tell she likes Stan!”

“You’re kind of insane, you know that?”

“I’m just being rational.”

“Okay. Gotcha.” The manic look in Wendy’s eyes caught Kenny off-guard. She didn’t seem like she was worth fighting with at this point. “Just don’t be stupid.”

She turned to smile at him widely. “I promise. It will be _really_ smart.”

He met her crazed eyes for a second then glanced thoughtfully out the window. For what felt like an hour, Kenny just stared off into space as Wendy tapped her foot and plans of soldiers and space missiles flew through her head. Kenny might be right that she was kind of insane, but that was a damn good plan if she’d ever had one.

You don’t fuck with Wendy Testaburger.

Finally, Kenny sighed and pushed himself up from his desk. “Can I walk you home?”

“What? I wanted to stay.” Wendy crossed her arms and leaned back petulantly.

Kenny cast a wary glance outside. “No, it’s dark. I can either walk you or you can let me call your parents.”

“Wow, thanks, _dad_ ,” Wendy muttered sarcastically as she grabbed her book bag and followed Kenny out of the classroom. “You know people would think you were way less cool if they heard you speak?”

He didn’t look back at her, but she could tell he was smiling. “They can understand me. The parts I want them to. You just haven’t learned how to speak Kenny yet because I spoil you.”

Wendy jogged ahead to bump into him affectionately. It was actually a pretty cool secret to have with him. She didn’t even know Kenny that well. Of Stan’s friends, she definitely knew Kyle the best. Not that she particularly liked Kyle, but he was unavoidable in a relationship that involved Stan. Still, one day she had demanded Kenny take his hood off if he wanted to talk to her so he had. He said he’d never done it for anyone else, and she had to promise never to tell anyone, which of course she did. All of a sudden, he was just Kenny, and he was different from anyone else’s Kenny.

It was so weird at first. The boy had basically been an animated orange parka. She hadn’t expected everything to be, like, working. He could hear and speak perfectly. He was also, to put it bluntly, probably the most attractive boy Wendy had ever seen. It was kind of funny, actually. So many of her friends had insulted or slapped Kenny on different occasions when he said something that was too aggressively sexual, but if they’re known he looked like _this_ , those encounters would have gone entirely differently.

He had never been touched by the sun. His hair was almost pure gold, and his skin glowed ghostly white without a speckle in sight. Seriously, Wendy had expected a pimple _at least_. He wore the same fucking hood everyday. Even the part of him she could see through the hood, his sharp blue eyes, looked different when they complemented his whole face.

She liked this being their secret.

She felt really powerful having a secret like this over the other girls. Of course, she would never do anything. She had Stan. Kenny was just like a secret weapon.

“Why are you acting like Cartman when he’s thought of a new way to torture Kyle?” Kenny asked finally, jerking Wendy out of her daydreams.

“W-what?”

“He has this particular scheming face. Some weird little smile. You’re doing it, too.” Kenny poked at her face accusingly.

She pushed his hand back. “Maybe that’s just my smile! You’re a jerk, Kenny McCormick!”

Wendy was glad Kenny had waited so long before he’d started talking. Maybe he had actually needed that time to think, but her house had become just barely visible on the horizon.

“Scheme away, Wendy. I don’t care. Just don’t lie once you’re called out. That’s weak.”

“I didn’t realize there was scheming etiquette.”

He smirked and shoved his hands in the hoods of his parka. “Everyone needs a code of etiquette, Wendy. If you plan on scheming, you gotta work scheming in there.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t plan on scheming.”

Kenny shrugged good-naturedly. “Then no need to worry about it, I guess.”

Wendy stared down at her tight leather outfit. She had been incredibly self conscious all day since Ms. Ellen had walked in, but she felt humiliated walking home like this with just Kenny McCormick there to make jokes. He must think of the worst ones in the class. “Kenny, how do you make boys like you?”

He glanced at her curiously. “You mean, besides dress like this?”

“Besides dress like this.”

“Do you want the hooded or the not hooded Kenny answers?”

“Are they both good?”

“They’re both perfect.”

“Alright, give me both.”

Kenny glanced around and grinned slightly. It was completely dark and silent so there would be no noise besides their voices throughout the whole neighborhood. They were starting to near Wendy’s street, and Kenny couldn’t help feeling a little relieved. Yeah, he lived in the ghetto, and that was scary, but Wendy lived in a quaint suburban town aka the setting for every horror movie every made.

It’s not like he wasn’t out past his bedtime too just because he was being gallant.

“Alright, hooded Kenny would tell you blowjobs. Be careful for barfing, though. And I don’t mean you.”

“Good advice. I don’t know if non-hooded Kenny is going to be able to beat that.”

He smirked. “I don’t think so either because non-hooded Kenny thinks it’s specific to the specific guy.”

Wendy mock-winced. “You’re right. That is a pussy answer!”

Kenny shrugged. “I mean, if you want Stan specifically, then just become exactly Stan’s dream girl. You can’t do that by, like, leather-fying yourself. You could just be the person Stan fell in weird, vomit-y love with and assume there’s a reason why he loved you at all. Or, final option, you can, y’know, do this the adult route.”

“The adult route?”

Kenny grinned and ruffled her hair affectionately. “The one where you admit that there are always going to be lots of attractive women in the world, and you are going to be one of them, and plenty of men are going to worship you so it’s stupid to give a shit about the ones who don’t.”

“That’s not what this is, Kenny! That bitch is stealing my man!”

“I didn’t think you were going to go that route anyway.”

“I’m fighting for Stan. Not fighting _her_.”

They paused in front of Wendy’s doorstep, and Kenny gave her a smile so affectionate it sent shivers down her spine as if he’d kissed her goodnight. “No boy who thinks he can do better than you is worth a damn anyway, Wendy.” He promptly pulled his hood back on. “Keep wearing the leather, though – just in case.”


	2. Chef Goes Nanners

Wendy hated when Kenny ate in the library. She had no idea why he did it. The library was reserved for the people who actually studied during their breaks (Wendy and only Wendy) and for the kids deemed too pathetic to be forced into social interaction. Kenny had friends who would eat with him in the normal cafeteria, and he usually spent the period after complaining about how boring it had been. He didn’t seem to get in trouble for anything so she doubted it was some kind of punishment. He just sat there and chewed too loudly and actually laughed at jokes in books. No one fucking laughs at jokes in books unless they’re trying to be irritating.

“Kenny, can you go eat in the cafeteria? Some of us are trying to actually focus on actually important things.”

He put down whatever was making him laugh so hard ( _Superfudge_ , Wendy noted with the roll of an eye) and looked her over speculatively. “ _You look like shit_.”

“Hoodie, Kenny. I can’t understand you.”

_“I know you can understand me or you wouldn’t get red when I insult you.”_

“How do you even eat with it on? I’ve tried to figure it out and I can’t!”

Kenny glanced around to make sure the library was empty and pulled his hood off. “Stop busting your ass over some stupid speech. You don’t see Cartman in here working during his free time.”

Wendy sighed and slid down in the seat next to Kenny. He looked a little startled for a second but relaxed almost immediately. “No, I didn’t tell him I’d be here.”

“Oh, shit, is he trying to _take control_? That’s even worse than him doing nothing!”

She sighed again and buried her face in her hands. “Kenny, what are your thoughts on sexual tension?”

“My… thoughts on it?”

“I mean if I spend a lot of time around one specific person, it would be normal for my thoughts to be about that person, right?”

Kenny furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you spending all your time with your boyfriend?”

“Well, no. It’s, um, one of my boyfriend’s friends, actually.” Wendy turned pink and looked to Kenny for validation, but he had turned wide-eyed and pale. He actually looked like he might vomit. Fuck. She knew having a crush on Cartman was disgusting. If this was just Kenny’s reaction, Stan would be horrified.

“Wendy, I don’t think you-.”

“Forget about it!” she interrupted quickly, clamping a hand over Kenny’s mouth. “Just don’t ever tell anyone I had a crush on Cartman!” She removed her hand and wiped it off on her pants. “If anyone finds out, I’ll know it came from you.” That wasn’t true. She didn’t know how she _didn’t_ expect Bebe to tell everyone, but Kenny didn’t know it wasn’t true.

“Cartman?” Kenny echoed weakly. There was something weirdly dejected in the way he said his name. “You have a crush on Cartman?”

She might have been a little hasty. This whole thing had left her so on edge that she was incredibly paranoid everyone could tell, but no one had any idea until she told them. She had only told Bebe so far, and Bebe had confirmed that Wendy shouldn’t share this with _anyone_ , but Kenny was always trustworthy.

It felt good to have a different perspective. Suddenly it was all pouring out that this stupid debate had given her feelings for Cartman, but now those feelings were distracting her from winning, Bebe said it was just sexual tension she had to get out of her system, but Wendy hated herself for having sexual tension with Cartman at all.

Kenny listened patiently as she ranted, occasionally fiddling with the string of his parka hood like he wanted to tighten it but couldn’t. “Well. I agree that you have to win the debate if it’s important to you.”

“I have to win because my side is right!”

He shrugged. “I try not to get wrapped up in stuff like that. It matters because it’s important to you. It’s not important to me. It is important to me that you have a boyfriend who’s pretty fucking obsessed with you.”

Now it was Wendy’s turn to look completely heartbroken. “Am I being selfish?”

“No, a selfish person would put their relationship ahead of fighting for what they think is right. You’re…. something, though.”

“ _Something_?”

He shrugged and smiled. “In a good way. Now go kick your opponents’ asses.”

“It’s just Stan and Kyle at this point.”

Kenny’s jaw practically dropped. “Seriously? Wow, you are ruthless.” He leaned down to give Wendy a peck on the forehead. “Be the smartest you can be, okay? And factor in his feelings.”


	3. Something You Can Do With Your Finger

“So, you think you’re the smart one?”

“I don’t know, man. Cartman might have just found the five most generically homoerotic outfits possible.”

Kenny snickered as Wendy pulled the sweater vest on over her head and struck a pose. He couldn’t help but think back to Cartman’s comment on hiding Wendy’s enormous hooters. It was ridiculous because it was untrue. Obviously - she was eight, but that would’ve been pretty sick. Maybe _She’s the Man_ had made a big impact on him, but the idea of Wendy being forced to wrap herself up in an ace bandage in order to play boy band was pretty fucking hot.

Yeah, Amanda Bynes had definitely ruined him.

It was always the worst with Wendy, though, because Kenny was forced to actually talk to her and nurture these thoughts. She was his friend’s girlfriend, and now apparently she was a substitute member of the crew. It wasn’t that he was unhappy to have her around, but he might have been a little worried about how happy he was to have her around. The group had needed a girl.

Where would the Beatles have been without Yoko?

“What do you think? Am I the smart one?”

“I _think_ you’re the smart one, but your sunglasses also look like the kinds of things my parent’s smelly friends wear, and I don’t think they’re very smart.”

She tipped her glasses to him sarcastically. “And you’re supposed to be the cute one, I guess?” She froze and turned pink. “I didn’t mean It to come out like that.”

Kenny waved a hand dismissively. “I’m glad that it did come out like that, and come on, Wendy. I’m the boy next door. See the baseball cap?”

She nodded understandingly. “I get it now. Ever consider losing the parka as long as you’re in the band?”

He smiled at her endearingly and batted his eyelashes. “What? Because we’re wasting my moneymaker?”

Wendy shrugged and made a huffing noise. “I just want Finger Bang to take off as badly as all of you do. I think it could be helpful for the band.”

They glanced back at the playground where Cartman was still trying to get control of the school girls and Timmy long enough to film a music video for a song he had only written in his imagination. Cartman was an idiot, but this was their boy band, too. Kenny wanted to be rolling in bitches and money.

He wondered vaguely how Wendy would spend her boy band money if she didn’t want to be rolling in bitches. For a second he wished she were one of the trashy girls Cartman had paid off to pretend to be obsessed with them for the video. How was Kenny supposed to impress someone by being in a boy band if she was also in that fucking boy band?

“I also was talking to Stan, and we think that if you’re being honest – which we don’t think you are – we should change the name of the band.”

He whipped around to raise an eyebrow at her. “Finger Bang? We’ve been Finger Bang since the beginning!”

“It’s filthy! No one would want their daughters listening to that.”

He screwed up his face in confusion. “You and your boyfriend made a mutual decision that a sex term is too filthy to bring up?”

“Just for the sake of the band’s image!”

He grinned widely. “Nah, that’s bullshit. You two just can’t look at each other in the eye when anyone makes a sex joke, but you make nothing but sex jokes separately.”

She pushed at him irritably. “I don’t think it’s embarrassing to be uncomfortable about sex at age nine.

“I’m just not going to let your puritanical values change my boy band. What the fuck is next? Promise rings? We need to be sex positive!”

“There’s a big difference between being sex positive and being named Finger Bang. I just think we’re reducing our perspective audience pool.”

“Yo. Testaburger. McCormick. Get your asses over here! We’re ready to shoot!” Cartman snapped from the other side of the playground. Kenny hurriedly pulled his hat off and tugged his hoodie up before replacing his hat.

Wendy frowned at him as she followed him up. “Oh, you’re gonna act like that about this?”

“ _Like what_?”

“I said ditch the hood!”

“ _Don’t pressure me into doing things I’m not comfortable doing_.” Kenny snickered wildly.

“You’re being a child, Kenny!”

_“I am a child! Stop trying to change my band!”_


	4. A Wacky Molestation Adventure

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Kenny and Wendy had been put on guard while Kyle and Stan went to investigate a potential raid by the kindergarteners, but they weren’t sure how to keep guard other than occasionally pausing to say “ _it’s quiet. Too quiet.”_ and resuming what they were initially doing.

This time, though, it was actually too quiet.

“They should be back by now, right?” Wendy asked nervously, chewing on her bottom lip.

Kenny put a calming hand on her arm. “Hey – don’t worry about it. Stan’s never let down Treasure Cove before.”

“Treasure Cove has only existed three days!”

He smiled. “And he hasn’t let it down once in those three days. Put your trust in him.”

She tapped a nail on the side of the desk nervously. “It’s just Carousel tonight, and Cartman hasn’t tried anything yet. I think we should be planning for the worst.”

“I think the fact that we’re planning for a hoard of kindergarteners to break in and steal our book so one of our friends has to die tonight means that we are planning for the worst.” He stood up and stretched. “Can’t you just enjoy doing nothing? What’s the point of no parents if you’re still constantly worried about getting in trouble?”

She frowned at him. She’d gone along with the molestation idea too, and she couldn’t deny that it was exciting, but did the boys have to escalate it into a full war? They could have just enjoyed kid government for a few weeks then gotten their parents back. It had, actually, been really fun. She spent nearly all day roaming the city that she was basically queen of with her boyfriend or hanging out with him, Kyle and Kenny. It had been great.

It didn’t mean that things weren’t too quiet, and it didn’t mean that people hadn’t already died.

Kenny relaxed and turned his attention back to his Gameboy so Wendy rolled her eyes and returned to reading. They’d gotten accustomed to the rhythm of having guard shifts together, and Wendy liked being comfortable doing nothing with people. Kenny didn’t show any interest in entertaining her unless it was also to alleviate his own boredom. It was kind of nice when Stan tripped over himself to make every conversation about her.

“Stan?” A familiar voice shrieked, causing Wendy to jolt up from her book. “Stan?”

“Cartman?” Kenny called back, jumping to his feet. He nodded at Wendy to grab the book and hide it, but Cartman barged into the room while it was still in her hands. He was flanked by mechanic Butters and astronaut Craig.

Hah. That pussy’s town didn’t even have an organized army.

“Aha! So they aren’t here?”

Kenny tensed up, angling himself between the book and Cartman. “No, but we are. They’ll be back soon.”

“Will they? I was under the impression that they were looking for a hoard of _kindergarteners_.”

Wendy’s eyes widened. “You set them up? Kenny, he set them up!”

“I’m aware he set them up, Wendy! I’m not scared of fighting you with or without them, Fat Boy.”

Craig cleared his throat. “We’re here, too.”

“Y-yeah! I’m gonna kick your ass, Kenny!” Butters pounded a fist into his hand, and Wendy had to bite back a grin. This was serious. Maybe it was a distraction tactic that Butters made any war difficult to take seriously. Wendy wouldn’t put it past Cartman to use him specifically for that.

“You’re taking this too seriously, Cartman!”

“ _Au contraire_ , Kenny. I don’t think I’m taking it seriously enough. Astronaut Craig, the bitch, please.”

“I’m Spy Craig now,” he corrected seamlessly as he crossed towards Wendy. Kenny launched himself in between the two of them.

Craig grabbed him and pushed him to the side. “Wendy’s time has come. We are not going to have the missing book at Carousel, Kenny.”

“Why don’t we not kill anyone at Carousel? This was all your stupid idea!” Wendy cried desperately, hugging the book to her chest.

Craig gripped her arm tightly but gave her an awkward smile. “Sorry, Wendy. Nothing personal.”

“Just senseless murder!”

“The Provider doesn’t consider it murder.”

He started dragging her to the opposite side of the room, but Kenny shook himself off and snapped back into attack mode. He pushed at Craig, but Butters ran over and wrapped Kenny in what could only be considered a hug. Was this kid a fucking pokemon? Was his fighting technique being annoyingly lovey? Kenny could have killed him at the time. “You don’t get to choose who dies, butthole! We do!”

“If I remember correctly, we spared her request to not kill off Bebe two nights ago. I think this makes us even.”

“You can’t kill Wendy!” Kenny didn’t even notice his voice cracking as he finally threw Butters down on the floor and stormed over to Cartman. “That’s against the rules!”

“Rules change. We have your book. She’s the bitch who lost the book. I was especially nice to her, and she did not respect my authority. Wendy dies.”

“Stan will kill you,” Wendy spat from where Kenny realized she was still struggling against Craig. “And Smileytown will turn on you. Bebe will.”

“I won’t,” Butters piped up, and Craig nodded mutely.

Cartman touched his heart in mock shock. “I also can’t believe that you two are fine distancing death until the time comes for one of you. You’re not the first person to die in this game. Everyone’s time comes when the Provider wants it to.”

“The Provider’s not real! You’re just filling out some sick cult leader fantasy you have!” Wendy tried to spit on Cartman’s shoe, but she was too far away to reach her target. Cartman noticed the gesture, though, and sneered.

“You’ve watched people die in this game, too, Wendy. You never put a stop to it back then.”

“I always said this was a _stupid_ rule that you boys made up!”

“Cartman!” Kenny interrupted desperately. “You said we can’t handle death when it’s one of us. So take me instead. That proves your point.”

“Kenny, I can’t make you do that! You’re setting me up for a lifetime of guilt!”

Cartman grinned. “I’ll hear this offer out. Why, pray, should it be you instead?”

Kenny could give a million reasons why it should be him instead. It began with the powers that Kenny was only now beginning to realize the severity of, and it ended with the desperate feeling that, even if Kenny wouldn’t come back, Wendy’s life was worth more. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to explain either of those things, but he knew that if he were actually right about these powers, no one would remember this conversation tomorrow besides him. “I was the one guarding the book. Not her. I lost it.”

That fat bastard flashed him a knowing smile, and Kenny had to restrain himself from pushing up against the wall and beating the shit out of him. “No, I know your kind, Kenny. You povs cling to life if it’s the last thing you can do. Why would you give up this get out of jail free card?”

“Cartman, you can’t talk to him like that!” Wendy snapped indignantly. She had stopped fighting as she listened to the conversation, but Craig kept all his attention on her.

“Her life is worth more than mine,” Kenny muttered softly.

“What? Say that louder, Kenny?”

He glowered at Cartman. “I said _her life is worth more than mine_.” He could have sworn he heard Wendy gasp, but he wasn’t moving his glare from Cartman’s worthless face.

“That’s not a great advertisement for this trade.”

“No, but I can promise that if you don’t choose to take me for Carousel, Stan and I will spend the rest of our lives making sure you die.”

Cartman paused. “That’s true. I can’t imagine anyone going out of their way to avenge your death.”

Kenny’s hands balled into fists, but he wasn’t going to make a mistake like hitting Cartman when he’d gotten so fucking close.

“I accept the trade. Craig, just the book. Wendy can stay here.”

Craig snatched the book out of Wendy’s unwilling hands, and Kenny finally caught a good glimpse of her. She was stark white and shaking as Craig wordlessly brought the book back to Cartman.

“Kenny?” she asked weakly.

He forced a smile. “Don’t lose your fucking book again.”

“I won’t.”

Wendy looked like she was about to burst into tears as Butters put a hand on Kenny’s shoulder to lead him away. It was all going to be okay. No one would remember this the next day, and Kenny and Wendy would both be fine. Kenny would be the one who got to keep the memory of Wendy whimpering and shaking as he got led away. He had died a lot of deaths. He hadn’t died many where anyone cared.

Before Butters had time to react, Kenny was across the room and pulling Wendy into a tight hug. She gripped his hips and buried her face in his chest, openly sobbing from the contact. Kenny had to grant it to Cartman that he didn’t make them move. He didn’t give them privacy or anything, but for what felt like hours, he let Kenny hold Wendy as she cried in his arms. Finally, the sniffling stopped, and she turned her eyes up to his to smile weakly. “T-Thank you, Kenny.”

The only thing that Kenny didn’t understand about his powers were how far the memory-wiping effects would extend. He assumed any information relevant to his demise got replaced by some kind of false memory with him censored out, but he didn’t have any way to back up that theory besides interrogating his friends after every death. Still, every theory had to get tested at some point.

Kenny’s hands slid up to cup Wendy’s face gently and pull her into a kiss. For a second, she stayed completely frozen. Kenny’s mind was whirring with all the lines he had just crossed. This was his best friend’s girlfriend. He may have just stolen her first kiss. She was probably freaking out internally.

Finally, her hug tightened around the back of his neck, and she began to kiss back hesitantly. Kenny was _sure_ she and Stan weren’t doing anything like this. Stan would have been the luckiest fourth grader in the world if this were his reality everyday. She kissed incredibly softly like too many teen magazines telling her to “watch out for teeth” had mentally scarred her and sent her in the opposite direction. By the time they stopped to take a breath, she was smiling.

“Hey, guys, it’s cool you have this side thing going on, but we have to take Kenny to his execution,” Cartman interjected awkwardly.

Kenny reluctantly stepped away from Wendy and gave her a last smile before following Butters out the door. She looked completely dazed as she gave him a final wave.

He _really_ hoped no one remembered any of this.


	5. Proper Condom Usage

When the time had come to vote for third grade awards (a parody on senior awards that South Park Elementary had their students do every year probably at a loss of ways to fill the days of the academic calendar), Wendy could have easily been given Most Likely to Succeed. _Every_ school gave out a Most Likely to Succeed award. Instead, Bebe had gotten control of choosing the award categories and nominated Wendy for the Garfield Award for Disliking Things.

Wendy disliked the award, but that was besides the point.

She was a girl with a lot of pet peeves. It wasn’t like she was an awful cynic who hated everything. She loved a lot of things – just only the stuff that was worthy of love. There was so much additional crap out there that grated on her every nerve.

Among them was messy lockers. It was just so unnecessary. It served such a simple fucking purpose. The books go in and come out depending on necessity. Plus, she did really believe that organization was key to success. That was why it was so fucking irritating to have a locker right across the hall from Kenny McCormick, who literally looked like he was living out of his locker.

She winced at the not unusual sound of items spilling out of Kenny’s locker onto the ground and him cursing furiously through his muffling hood. She had helped him pick everything back up at first, but it became too frequent for Wendy to enable his dirty locker habits. The kid had to suffer through it so that he might one day have a slightly cleaner locker.

There was a small possibility that she dawdled putting books in her bag and zipping it up very carefully because, by the time she turned around to leave the hall, it was clear save Kenny storing the last of his shit in his locker. Wendy wrinkled her nose. Kenny was okay. He was kind of her friend apart from knowing him through Stan, and Wendy kind of really looked forward to whenever those brief moments of friendship happened. She just needed a few days to forget about the locker before Kenny appeared anything other than disgusting.

Still, _she_ was the one to cross the hall to say goodbye to _him_. He hadn’t even acknowledged her presence. He probably assumed the girls in the school were still slightly on edge around boys, and he wasn’t wrong. The school had ended sexual education a week ago, but the scars of it still remained. Wendy had a theory that class had put the average age of virginity loss for their classmates back three or four years.

“Have a good night, Kenny!” As soon as she said it, she heard how weird she sounded. When she’d imagined the greeting, it seemed like the kind of thing she would say to anyone while they knelt at her feet and continued to grab fistfuls of pens and paperclips. It actually sounded really forced and lame, and Kenny looked startled.

“ _Bye, dude_.” With the hood up, Wendy could barely understand what he was saying, and now she couldn’t even tell if he’d smiled at her when he said it. He just turned back to repacking his locker.

Wendy stood next to him for a second as if she had been expecting the conversation to go on. She had secretly assumed Kenny would automatically take his hood off to talk to her, and she was kind of hurt that he didn’t. It made her feel kind of like a holy relic that boys would take their hats off around her. Unfortunately, they don’t, and she isn’t one.

She tried to hide her disappointment as she stepped past Kenny, her shoe tangling in a plastic drug store bag that must have spilled from the locker. If fate had wanted Kenny to talk to her, it probably could have figured out a better way to get his attention than tripping her, sending her gasping and swearing to the hallway floor, on a fucking bag with just a box of Lil Mini’s condoms.

_“Oh, fuck, dude, I’m so sorry!”_ At least she had effectively captured his attention, but that was no longer the priority as she pushed herself up into a sitting position and examined the bag that had tripped her. There was another box of condoms near the ones in the bag. Neither of the boxes had been opened.

Wendy wrinkled her nose again. “Kenny, why do you have those? It’s been a week since anyone else has worn one.” Her eyes got wide with the potential of what she was seeing. “Are you _actually_ …?”

Kenny chuckled, and she kind of liked the way it vibrated through his hood. It had good acoustics for laughing, she’d give it that. _“No. These are from then.”_

She winced just thinking about it. They had convinced the boys they had to wear condoms at all times or they would get STDs, and they had used rubber bands to fasten on condoms every day for a week. She felt an empathetic pain in her own crotch whenever she imagined how shitty that must’ve felt. She didn’t really talk about it with Stan because he had been having a really good puke-free streak lately, and she didn’t want to ruin it by talking about his penis and scaring him. “Why aren’t they used?”

_“I bought more than I ended up needing_.” Kenny shrugged and stashed them in his locker. _“It’s not like I’m mad I have condoms sitting around my room.”_

“Kenny, can you, um, take off the hood? I can’t understand you when you say long sentences like that.” Some people seemed like they could understand everything Kenny said, and most people got the general idea of what he was saying most of the time, but Wendy was exceptionally bad at interpreting Kenny’s muffled language. He usually took it off when they were alone, and she didn’t really want to hear the dirty jokes he told in school anyway.

“Oh, yeah, I always forget. Dude, Stan and Kyle and those guys talk to me just fine in the hood. It’s not that hard.” Still, he removed the hood, not noticing the funny angles it left his hair sticking up in. Wendy giggled but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want him to get rid of it. His hair was probably her favorite part of hoodless Kenny (second only to being able to actually understand what he was saying). It was blonde and slightly shaggy, and it looked like someone had given him edgy layers but possibly and more likely he had just cut his hair himself and fucked up. It was just a good color and cut. More boys should have hair like that because it was probably the best one.

Oh, God, she was thinking this about a boy who had definitely cut his own hair and fucked up pretty badly. He had probably used, like, the stationary scissors at school. Fuck. This better not be Cartman all over again. She didn’t even spend enough time with Kenny to have sexual tension. It was ridiculously unfounded, based only on her feeling special for getting him to take his hood off as a kid.

“Why’d you buy the second before you even opened the first?” Wendy asked automatically, picking the first distraction that came to mind. She didn’t really care, but that was kind of odd, and it kept her away from thinking about his horrible hair.

“Oh.” Kenny looked a little startled. He probably had the worst poker face if he was accustomed to having every facial expression hidden under a hood. “Stocking up? STDs are no joke.”

“It’s weird there’s no open, half-used box or something,” she mused out loud. “Since you’re clearly stocked.” Wow, she was great at distracting herself. She was barely even thinking about how much she had been thinking about his hair now.

He shrugged. “I guess I timed my last box perfectly? I’m sure you’ll learn that feeling when you’re buying tampons or something. It’s a good sense of closure.”

“Ew, Kenny, gross!

“You’re the one asking me about my condom habits, dude. You’re not that grossed out.”

She wasn’t actually grossed out. She obviously hadn’t gotten her period, but it was a fucking inevitability that she’d deal with eventually. Her friends hated that about Wendy. When they all swore sex was disgusting and of course they’d wait until marriage, she was the friend to tell them they’d realistically lose their virginities before college. They weren’t at that point yet, but they would be one day, and Wendy thought it was stupid to assume she’d be the exception to every other teenage girl.

Plus, she kind of already thought about it. Like, a lot. She had googled that, and an overly enthusiastic puberty website told her it was normal but on the earlier end of the spectrum. She wished there was someone she could ask if it was normal if they factored in the _amount_ of time Wendy spent thinking about it, but she wouldn’t have her yearly physical until June.

“I’m just pointing out some logical inconsistencies in your condom possession,” she muttered defensively.

Kenny laughed openly. “Can I get some potential motive for lying about my condom possession? Dude, you’re fucking ridiculous.”

Wendy glared at him and reached towards the empty drug store bag that Kenny had left to litter the hallway. The grin disappeared from his face as he watched her grope around for the receipt, scanning it quickly.

“Dude, you’re going really overboard with this condom conspiracy.”

“Why are your unopen ones from two weeks ago, Kenny? Wasn’t that, like, when it started?”

He snorted. “You either play too much or too little detective.”

“Clearly enough to be great at it.”

“I’m not defending this to you. You’re being weird.”

She almost gasped but managed to catch herself. Kenny McCormick did not get to call Wendy Testaburger weird. _He_ was weird. She was most likely to succeed. “Fine, but you’re a really bad liar.” She stood to her feet huffily. “Fuck you, Kenny.”

She caught a brief expression of surprise on his face before she started storming down the hall. “See? That’s weird, Wendy! I don’t think I warranted that reaction so giving it was you being weird.”

It was weird to hear someone actually have a spine when she got unreasonably mad at them instead of apologizing profusely or pretending it wasn’t happening like Stan did. She liked the way Kenny did it, too. He never seemed mean.

She stopped and walked back to Kenny meekly. “It was an overreaction,” she admitted reluctantly.

He smirked. “I only have unused ones because I’m not a dumb shit and knew what condoms were used for, but it was way easier to just go with the flow so I just bought them when everyone else did. As I said, I’m not upset to have condoms lying around.” He closed his locker and raised an eyebrow at her speculatively. “I was just lying because I thought you’d feel bad about not knowing what they were or something, dude.”

It felt so much worse that Kenny’s politeness stemmed from pity rather than anything else. Kenny had actually worried about making her, Wendy Testaburger, feel dumb.

And he _had_ made her feel dumb.

“Are you kidding? We practically killed each other, and you fucking knew!”

“Practically,” he repeated meaninglessly and snorted to himself.

“What about all your friends? The rubber bands, Kenny! You didn’t feel bad for not telling them it was unnecessary?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Wendy, you’ve gone head-to-head with South Park groupthink so many times, it probably seems normal to you now, but it’s not. It’s so much easier to just go with this shit. People usually realize their mistakes before too much damage is done.”

“If going head-to-head with South Park groupthink means stopping an escalating _war_ , I’d obviously do it!”

“It was pretty fucking funny at the beginning, dude. Once shit had gotten out of hand, I couldn’t have stopped it anyway.” Kenny grinned at her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I don’t have a bag, by the way. We aren’t waiting here on anything.”

“Oh.” Wendy automatically started following him down the hall. This encounter had felt incredibly unsatisfactory considering the fact that she had actually put in effort. “How’d you know?”

“Know what?”

“How’d you know what condoms were for?”

“Did you know your voice always gets a little quieter when you say the word _condom_? Like you’re afraid to be saying it?”

Wendy blushed. “That’s dodging questions.”

Kenny laughed again. It was so easy to get Kenny to laugh; it shouldn’t have felt like an accomplishment. She hadn’t even really made him laugh herself, anyway. She just really liked getting to hear his. He kind of rumbled, and he was always so ready to laugh like he found life hysterical. “I don’t know, dude. You just kind of figure it out when you’re into that stuff. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Chef is probably my best friend.”

She felt a little irritated. She _was_ into that stuff, and he, the dirtiest fourth grader in the world, was acting like she had to be protected from hearing about sex. That actually might have been one of the most embarrassing things to have ever happened to her when she thought about it that way. “Where do you read about it?”

“I don’t really read about it. If you’re interested in sex, talk to your parents, dude.”

Holy shit. He actually thought she was a child. He was telling her to ask for The Talk. Wendy was bright red. “I’ve already _had_ that talk.”

He looked at her with a grin, but it faded a little when he saw her. Fuck. Her face must look like she was upset. “Then ask me questions about it.” He nudged her shoulder encouragingly. “I promise that everything I don’t know the answer to, I will find out the answer or make up if it’s funny.”

She frowned at the ground as he pushed open the door to the parking lot. That was actually a really good option. Granted, everything she learned would be from the mouth of a prepubescent pervert, but it was so much better than talking to her parents. Wendy nodded hesitantly. “Thank you, Kenny.”

He snorted. “Y’know, I didn’t think you and Stan would be asking for sex advice for a long, long time. I also assumed it would be him asking.” He didn’t say it in an accusatory way, but that was how Wendy felt.

“I wasn’t planning on-.”

“Oh, dude, I’m very aware you weren’t planning on anything.” He smirked knowingly, and it made Wendy want to punch Stan if she were willing to admit she had this conversation. “I can do first kiss advice, too. Hell, I’ll even let you practice. Anything for Stan to not be terrified of sex.”

“We’ve kissed! And he’s not terrified of sex!”

“No, sorry, that was mean. Like I said, you guys will get there at some point. I shouldn’t make fun of him for being nervous.”

Wendy chewed on her lip. It was now or she’d never have the courage to ask. “Is that normal for kids our age?”

“Being nervous? Yeah. I’m obviously not expecting you guys to actually fuck.”

“No, I mean, our kids our age usually grossed out by sex still?”

His eyes widened. “Oh, yeah, totally! Don’t make me feel weird if you don’t think about sex yet. Most people don’t for, like, a couple years even? I don’t know. Obviously some do now. Living proof.”

“How much is normal for someone our age to think about it?”

Kenny shrugged helplessly. “I’m not _that_ familiar with female puberty. I’ll find out and get back to you if you want.”

“How much do _you_ think about it?”

He let out a startled laugh. “A lot of the time.”

“And you’re not worried that’s, like, too much? I mean, a lot of your friends aren’t at all.”

He snickered a little. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll grow up into a sexual predator or something. I’ll probably just end up an adult who’s _still_ pretty obsessed with sex. It’s not really an embarrassing thing to be interested in.”

That didn’t seem true because Wendy was incredibly embarrassed to be interested in it. She was going to have to talk to her pediatrician in June; Kenny was clearly not going to be able to answer a nine-year-old girl’s questions. “Do you know anyone else our age who’s, um, like you?”

“Clyde, definitely. That kid feels me. Did you mean girls? The only one of your friends I’ve kissed is Red, but she seems pretty mature. I don’t know if Clyde’s kissed anyone in the class.”

Her mouth fell open slightly. Red and Kenny had not been common knowledge. Maybe Red was smart like Kenny and knew to go along with the South Park girls until everyone was on board. Wendy was kind of surprised Kenny wouldn’t have told everyone if he told her so nonchalantly.

“Don’t talk to your friends about Red, by the way,” he clarified as if reading her mind. “She doesn’t want her friends to know yet, and I don’t want to fuck up my reputation by spilling secrets after I finally got a girl at this school to make out with me.”

Wendy nodded slowly. “When was that?” She hoped she didn’t sound jealous. Kenny would probably interpret it as her being judgmental anyway.

“A couple times starting a month or so ago. She got really upset when she heard about the chili thing, and I guess I was the person that ended up getting to talk to her about it.”

Wendy didn’t like the way Kenny said _getting to_ like he was actually aware he was lucky to have her. She didn’t like that he thought Red was mature and she wasn’t. She didn’t like that Red got to have a boy who didn’t throw up at the idea of touching her.

A small part of her was wondering if Kenny was paying less attention to her than usual because of Red.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

They reached the fork in the road that separated the residential area of South Park from the slums, and Kenny turned to face her with some finality. Wendy hadn’t even realized they’d walked that far. _Kenny would have walked her home before Red started._

“Thanks, dude. Good talk.” He smiled and clapped her shoulder platonically. “Have a good night, Wendy.”

“You, too, Kenny.”

She was still for a second as he turned down the other road. Something felt like it was squeezing her heart, and her head was circling with petulant bullshit like _that’s not fair_. Wendy hated when she cried. It was like a part of her stayed awake to observe how immature she was, but every other part of her regressed to age four.

She started the walk towards her house quickly, rubbing her sleeve against a sniffling nose. Fuck, “sniffling” was too cute a word for her right now. She was just snotty. Wendy was pretty sure she could keep herself from crying in public, but she was in a rush to get back to her safe, warm bed where she could listen to Paul Simon and cry without having to ask herself _what_ had gone so wrong that she felt like this.

A voice at the end of the street stopped her, calling her back. She wiped her face nervously in case she looked close to tears and turned around to face Kenny. He didn’t seem to notice anything off about her appearance. That was good.

“Yeah?” she asked weakly.

He looked kind of embarrassed. “I think I was being a dick for, um, making you feel bad. I don’t want to make any presumptions about where you are, like, with that or what you do and don’t do with Stan.”

“You didn’t have to apologize.”

“I’m selfish and don’t want to feel guilty all night. Just, y’know, it’s totally chill wherever you are. If you don’t like to think about that stuff, then I don’t want you to either. If you do, I’ll probably throw Stan a party. Either way, you’re doing what you should be doing.” He paused, and Wendy assumed he was done. Something he had said made it feel like a huge weight had been lifted from her chest. It could have been just the apology.

“For the record, wherever you’re at, you can’t be as fucked up as Stan because he’s an idiot for knowing he wants you and not knowing he wants to do anything about it.”

Kenny nodded amicably at Wendy and set off down his street without waiting for a response. Wendy felt a little sick as her body transitioned from tears to an alien giddiness on her walk home.


	6. Kenny Dies

Kenny was asleep when Wendy entered his room, and she thanked God for that. Wendy was no actress. There was no way she could have looked at the jumble of wires and machines that surrounded the boy and not visibly wince, and she had to be strong. She had to be strong because Stan couldn’t be. Maybe it wasn’t her duty as his girlfriend to visit his friends in the hospital, but her stomach clenched up with anger every time Stan showed up at school confessing he hadn’t visited Kenny the afternoon before.

Now she understood why Stan hadn’t wanted to visit him. The machines were bad enough, and Wendy didn’t want to think about what the fluids being pumped in and out of his body actually were. The worst part was that, lying weakly in a hospital bed, was Kenny McCormick, and he was as Kenny as he ever was when he was healthy. The hospital had even allowed him to keep on the orange parka while all the other patients wore standard gowns.

She wondered if that had been his dying wish. That was so like Kenny. No one knew anything about him except for being “that kid in the parka”, and he chose to die as “that kid in the parka”.

He was surrounded by cards and flowers although most of the cards, Wendy noted, seemed like they were written in Butters and Kyle’s poor attempts at forging different handwriting. A carefully homemade card perched on top of the pile marked Stan’s continued absence.

Wendy sighed to herself, digging around in a black purse she’d stolen from her mom until she found what she was looking for. Her hand emerged clutching a small, stuffed toy. Wendy wasn’t sure what animal it was – some hybrid of a hamster and teddy bear. Maybe Wendy was a sucker for advertising, but she couldn’t resist the _Whatever! It’s cute! You’ll buy it!_ tag on the bear thing. So she’d bought it.  

There were other gifts Kenny would have preferred. He was a nine-year-old boy, after all, but Wendy hadn’t been able to summon the courage to buy an X-rated magazine even as she stood outside the door for hours. Instead, Kenny got the bear thing. Something about the way he wore his parka into death made Wendy feel like he was a security blanket kind of guy, even if he would never admit it.

She reached out a trembling hand to nestle the bear in Kenny’s arms, and the boy gave a groan. Wendy jumped back in surprise. Yes, she had come to visit Kenny, but it was definitely much easier to do the right thing when he coincidentally happened to be asleep.

“ _Stan?_ ” he asked groggily, opening his eyes a fraction.

Wendy grimaced. She knew Kenny was barely lucid, but she was pretty fucking sick of the other South Park kids spreading rumors that she and Stan were cousins. They both had dark hair. That was it. “No, um, it’s Wendy.”

Kenny blinked a few times. “ _Oh._ ”

“I thought you might want a visitor.”

“ _I can’t take my hood off.”_

Wendy smiled sympathetically. “Just talk really slowly, okay? I’ll try my hardest.”

“ _Do you wanna talk? And I can listen.”_

“I’m not really sure what to say,” she admitted reluctantly.

She was pretty sure she saw his eyes crinkle in a smile. “ _Just tell me about your day. It’s not that easy to talk.”_

“Oh, well, um.” Wendy wracked her brain to think of anything interesting to say. She scolded herself for being flustered; the poor kid had been in a bed all day – anything would be interesting. “Student body is trying to get Jared to come talk. The first grade president wanted Ronald McDonald, and this was Mr. Mackey’s solution.” Wendy rolled her eyes, and Kenny chuckled weakly. “Classes are the same.”

“ _Did you learn anything?”_

“Did we learn anything while you were there? No, Mr. Garrison is trying to teach us about slavery, and he keeps looking at Token every few seconds like the boy’s going to bust a cup in his ass.”

Kenny laughed loudly, and Wendy jumped a little. She didn’t realize his body was capable of making noises like that anymore. “ _Say “bust a cap in his ass” again._ ”

Wendy snickered. “Bust a cap in his ass.”

Kenny roared with laughter until it dissolved into a coughing fit. Wendy sat quietly until the boy stopped. She held out a bottle of water, and he waved it off wordlessly.

“He also thinks the underground railroad was a real railroad. Which Rosa Parks conducted.”

The blank look in Kenny’s eyes made it clear he didn’t know what the underground railroad was or who Rosa Parks was. Wendy cringed inwardly. She hadn’t fully appreciated the fact that the other South Park students weren’t reading history in their spare time. They actually relied on the knowledge Mr. Garrison gave them. It was heartbreaking.

“Whatever. Also, Bebe’s pissed at me because she shoplifted this chapstick, and I made her return it, and now she’s trying to turn all our friends against me. Annie won’t even sit next to me anymore, and Red doesn’t talk whenever she does.” Wendy was about to roll her eyes again, then she heard what she’d just said. She hadn’t heard anything about Kenny and Red in months, and she didn’t want to bring it up accidentally.

“ _Red thinks Bebe’s a bitch for stealing her role in the Helen Keller musical. She’s just being stubborn_.”

Wendy’s eyed widened. She had never minded Kenny’s company. She probably enjoyed it. Still, she had never imagined Kenny was a source of gossip gold. He _had_ managed to befriend almost every girl in the class during Home EC. A mean part of her she wished didn’t exist was upset she didn’t know about this gold mine until it was dying.

“Did Red visit you?”

Kenny shook his head slowly. “ _She didn’t see the humor in showing my ass during school photos_.”

“Was that when the ass-faced people showed up?”

He nodded, and Wendy giggled like a maniac. “That’s amazing. That was _so_ funny, Kenny. I care about human rights more than anything, and I’m telling you – that was _so_ funny.”

Wendy wished his hood was down so she could actually see his smile, but the way his eyes crinkled up was a decent substitute. “ _Cartman laughed so hard he couldn’t find anything funny anymore_.”

“Did you try killing Kyle?”

Kenny paused, and his eyes crinkled again. “ _No, but you really get Cartman’s sense of humor_.”

“It’s easy. You just inflict the most amount of pain possible on the person he likes the least.” Wendy had put much more effort into hanging out with Cartman, Kyle and Kenny than Stan had put into Bebe, Red, the Annies, and Heidi. He didn’t even know which Annie was which! When it was clear he’d never put in effort, Wendy had decided to give up on Stan’s friends, too. All they did was listen to Kyle and Cartman argue then run off on some adventure without her. Unfortunately, that meant she barely saw Stan, but their company really sounded awful. Especially without Kenny there, it would be like an Aryan pride podcast and a one-man protest.

She and Kenny exchanged what she assumed were smiles, and she glanced down at her lap to avoid Kenny spotting the blush spreading over her cheeks. When she looked back up, Kenny was watching her very seriously.

“ _It’s never felt like this before._ ”

Wendy’s heart dropped into her stomach, and her stomach dropped somewhere she would figure out once she took a class on anatomy. “What hasn’t?”

“ _Dying_.”

She frowned involuntarily. He must be incredibly delirious. “What has it felt like?”

“ _I just explode. No matter how I actually die. Poof. Then it’s over.”_

“What’s happening now?”

Kenny looked at the tubes around him and gave Wendy a meaningful look like she was supposed to guess. “ _I think it’s the last time._ ”

Wendy was starting to feel a little shaky, but she did her best to hide it. “The last time you die?”

He nodded. “ _It wasn’t even… It wasn’t even for anything. I did all that. All of those. And I didn’t do anything.”_

This had officially freaked her out. Wendy was prepared for a young, sad boy. She hadn’t expected some scary, Vietnam vet grandpa with a lifetime of regrets. “You did everything Kenny McCormick was supposed to do.”

He snorted bitterly, and she felt bad for using a weak platitude on him. “You did everything, Kenny! You… you had that show, remember? _Krazy Kenny_! And Kyle told me you, ah, saved Moses!” Wendy sincerely hoped that had actually happened because she really couldn’t think of anything else Kenny had done. “How many nine-year-old kids do that?”

“ _How many nine-year-old kids die?”_

She choked in a gasp. “And you walked me home when it got dark out! And you found out what a prostrate was for me! And a g-spot! And then you found out what a g-spot actually was, and you told me that, too! You protected me at Treasure Cove!”

“ _You remember that?_ ” His voice had come out surprisingly quickly, and Wendy paused to remember what she had been saying.

“The prostate? It’s this, um. I think it relates to pee? It’s in the butt somewhere. Girls… do not have them?” Wendy sounded like she was studying for a quiz she was going to get a very, very low grade on.

“ _Treasure Cove_ ,” he forced out, staring at her with wide eyes. “ _You should also review what a prostate is later. You don’t remember.”_

Wendy glared at him. She was positive that it was in the butt somewhere, and she was pretty sure it related to pee. It definitely related to some fluid, and she didn’t know how many types the body could have.

Mr. Garrison had taught them this for a week for a standardized test. As far as Wendy could remember, the only human body fluids were red blood, period blood, white blood, spit, sweat, vomit, pee, poop, and “woman goo”, which he said shows up after childbirth and should be avoided at all costs. She’d even made a song to help her memorize them, but she couldn’t remember it now. It had done its job.

“ _What happened at Treasure Cove?”_ he asked again after she’d spent considerable time lost in her thoughts on anatomy.

Her gaze softened instantly. “What do you mean? We did guard together every night!”

“ _Oh_.” His response sounded flat, and she would have assumed it were sadness if it weren’t so easily confused with dying. “ _That was just a game._ ”

She shook her head vigorously. “What about the time you saved me and the book from Cartman, Craig and Butters? They could’ve killed one of us!”

Kenny looked at her for a long time before rolling back to stare at the ceiling. “ _What did I do instead?”_ he asked after a pause that made Wendy’s zone out seem like the blink of an eye.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted truthfully. “You just went back to Smileytown with them, and no one died that night. No one else could have done that, Kenny.”

He laughed, but it didn’t seem like he found anything funny. “ _I would’ve preferred dying when it mattered_.”

Wendy twisted uncomfortably in her seat. “There’s no situation in which people wouldn’t prefer you being alive,” she said lamely. Comfort had never been her strongest suit.

He turned just his neck back to look at her strangely. “ _When I die,_ ” he paused when he saw Wendy open her mouth to object, but he didn’t give her time to speak. “ _When I die, will you do all the stuff for the world I was never gonna do?”_

She nodded weakly. She was pretty sure there were tears welling up in her eyes, but it would be too embarrassing to touch her cheek and find out.

His stare never wavered, but Wendy detected a glint of humor in the back of them. A faint spark that Kenny was probably forcing for her sake. “ _I never got a chance to lose my virginity,”_ he said with a little snicker.

Wendy wrinkled her nose immediately. “Ew, no, Kenny, this isn’t one of those last experience things! That’s, like, and all the fucking tubes!”

“ _People usually hire people for that, but I’m glad the tubes were the only problem.”_ Wendy wished she could be proud of how coherently Kenny was speaking, but she really struggled with that damn parka. It was much easier when he could only say short sentences. Judging by the mischievous and slightly perverted look in his eyes, she was glad she couldn’t really understand. “ _I meant that’s how you should honor me.”_

“Sex with dead bodies is very illegal, Kenny. Not to mention, totally gross.”

Kenny laughed loudly enough that Wendy was pretty sure he wasn’t putting on a show just to ease her nerves. “ _Or you and Stan could light some candles and set up some pictures of me-.”_

“Gross, Kenny! That’s fucking gross!” She pushed at him roughly before the severity of his situation set in, and she immediately paled. Apologizing would be awkward, but not apologizing would make her seem like an asshole in his last memory of her.

This was Kenny’s last memory of her.

His very last.

Wendy struggled to maintain composure like a wave of grief hadn’t just crashed down over her. “If you want, we can kiss, and he can vomit on your casket.”

Kenny snickered. “ _I wouldn’t expect anything less.”_

Wendy frowned a little. His jokes about her and Stan hurt more than she was willing to admit. Kenny had been so sweet the day he told her to do whatever she was comfortable with, and it felt like a real talk that people have when they’re in real relationships. Then she went back to her real relationship, and Stan didn’t stop playing some stupid video game and acting like she was stupid for asking questions about the talking towel in his living room.

She wasn’t angry at Kenny for calling them prudes. She could count the amount of times they’d kissed with her fingers, and she could count the amount of times he’d thrown up on her for _almost_ kissing him with a telescope pointed at a starry sky. She was angry that Stan wasn’t mature enough to visit his sick friend in the hospital or spend time with his girlfriend because he was playing self-involved games, usually with Kyle.

He hadn’t seemed like he had a problem with hospitals when he was running around with medieval medical equipment trying to _steal_ a human kidney. That was for Kyle, though, and if there were anyone Stan liked almost as much as himself, it was Kyle.

Wendy immediately felt bad and tried to take the thought back, but it was too late. Anger must have been evident on her face because Kenny was watching her with genuine concern, staying respectfully silent even when she reluctantly met his eyes. “I wish I were angry for you being taken too soon,” she muttered finally.

“ _Why are you actually angry?”_

“Why hasn’t Stan visited you yet?” The contempt when she said his name was obvious to both her and Kenny. “He keeps saying he will!”

Kenny seemed to curl in on himself. “ _He’s scared of hospitals.”_

Wendy didn’t want to say that she could easily name five times Stan had been in a hospital for something other than a check-up, but she thought Kenny knew even better than she did. Kenny probably got a front row seat for how much more Stan cares about Kyle than any of his other friends.

“I just think he should deal with it like an adult,” Wendy said in a level voice. Adults don’t have their moms buy them new video games because they’re grieving. They just grieve.

“ _I’m not mad, Wendy.”_

“I’m mad! He’s being a coward, and I’m sick of him pretending like his favorite human isn’t his dog!” Kenny was silent, watching Wendy’s tirade with wary interest. “He’s getting this stupid superhero complex, and now I feel like a prop like Maid Marian or whoever Spiderman dated.”

“ _Mary Jane.”_

“Yeah. Her.”

“ _Maybe tell Stan this,_ ” Kenny suggested, rolling over so he was completely facing Wendy. “ _It more directly involves him._ ”

Wendy froze her emphatic arm movements, aghast. She had been complaining about herself while she visited Kenny. That was awful. She was horrible. “Yeah. Of course. Yeah. This is so not important.”

“ _I don’t mean it’s not important. It’s important to him_.”

“The only way he’d care if I broke up with him is if I started dating Kyle. And Kyle spent time with me. Which is unlikely.” Wendy buried her face in her hands. God, she hadn’t realized this much bitterness had built up. At school, it just felt nice to be stable. No one really dated at their age, but it felt like two people balanced out. Or more than two if that was what worked for the relationship. Stan made South Park more comfortable. She had never left lunch period in tears because a guy farted on her, and Wendy was probably confident enough to face the whole grade on her own, but it felt supportive knowing at least one of the boys was on her side. Well, usually on her side. Unless it conflicted with his side or Kyle’s side or peer pressure.

She liked being a part of Stan and Wendy. It was nice. It might not have had the brotherhood of Stan and Kyle, but Stan and Wendy made couples hold hands and remember their young loves. Their parents had the option to talk about how adorable their own children were _or_ how adorable Stan and Wendy’s babies would be. Stan was great at romantic gestures, even if he’d basically stopped doing them, and he was, actually, a hero. It was a pretty great relationship. Wendy was silly for getting angry about it.

When she lifted her gaze, she was ready to be cheerful. This was a hospital; it needed all the good energy it could take. Unfortunately, Kenny was just staring at her sadly. Even with machines whirring around him to keep his life barley going, he seemed much stronger than her. Wendy didn’t like that. She was strong to the point of exhaustion, but Kenny was looking death in the face. Or had already looked death in the face, if his delirious ramblings could be trusted. She could never understand what he understood.

For some reason, she’d expected sage-like wisdom. Kenny spoke mostly in perverted jokes because, she assumed, it frustrated him when people couldn’t understand him while he was serious, but Wendy was used to the Kenny who was more mature than any other boy. He obviously was sexually, but he also just took things seriously when other boys wouldn’t. Plus, he had that deathbed wisdom dying people were always raving about.

Instead, Kenny just grunted feebly, “ _I wish I could kick Stan’s ass for making you not feel wanted, but I can probably ask my brother_.”

Wendy gave him a genuine smile. “No, it’s all going to be okay.”

Kenny glanced down at the bear nestled in his arms and back at Wendy before sighing. “ _I think so, too.”_

They were quiet for a second. Wendy wasn’t sure if she could continue talking about her day without bringing up unpleasant topics, and she didn’t know how long Kenny would have energy to talk for. He clutched the bear a little tighter as he shrank in to the bed.

“Are you scared?”

Not the best question, but she knew Kenny would respect someone wanting to know. _“Just sad. I know what’s coming.”_ He looked around the room with half-lidded eyes, something like nostalgia on his face for this room he’d spent only days in. “ _I’d never really experienced this going._ ”

Wendy cleared her throat, hustling to collect her belongings and stand up as his eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll, um, give you a page on our school yearbook.” Kenny cracked an eyelid to give her a disparaging look. “And I’ll make Stan visit.”

He nodded sleepily. “ _Are you going to come back_ _again_?”

She froze, an inch away from being angled towards the door. She didn’t talk, and Kenny didn’t talk. He had either drifted into sleep or understood the meaning of her silence.

Before Wendy twisted the doorknob, she muttered “bust a cap in his ass” to the quiet room. She could faintly hear a sad chuckle before she stepped into the hall.


	7. South Park Is Gay!

“ _Girlfriend_.”

Kenny McCormick stood at Wendy’s door in a lilac parka, tapping his boot and giving her a hilariously intense look.

“What do you want, Kenny?”

“ _Well, I was just chatting with the girls_ -.”

Wendy stepped back to hold the door open for him. “Look, it’s bad enough you’re acting like your Y chromosome grew a little leg, but take off the fucking hood.” She was at her wits’ end with this metrosexuality trend. All the women were. If Kenny, who hadn’t been able to afford a new jacket in years, was wasting his money on this idiotic craze, Wendy would personally beat him up and force him to watch porn until he became normal again.

He pulled off the hood obediently, flipping perfectly-styled bedhead and grinning at her like he’d just won a fight.

“You style your hair under the parka?” she choked out in disbelief.

Kenny winked at her in a way that made her question his questioning sexuality. “Well, we can’t all be naturally gorgeous.”

Wendy was astounded. Under any normal circumstances, this statement would shake her world. Instead, Kenny had said it with a fake lisp and pinched her cheek affectionately, and it just made her angrier than before. “I would _kill_ for your lashes, babe. You look like a doll that can’t be sold to children because it supports unrealistic beauty standards.”

The worst part was, Wendy later reflected, if Kenny had said any of this like a remotely normal person, it would have been amazing. She wanted him to, like, blink his eyelashes against hers. That sounded like something two adults did when they had mutual appreciation for the other’s eyelashes. Instead, she got questions on what mascara brand (if any, which she obviously didn’t) she used.

“Kenny, why did you come here?” she demanded finally with a huff.

He paused rambling about Maybelline vs. Sephora (not understanding, Wendy guessed, the difference between a brand and a store) and gave her a look so genuine it felt like normal Kenny had returned. “Well, Bebe told Red told Annie told Heidi told Red again, who punched her for assuming she was out of the loop, and then both of them told me that,” Kenny took a long drawn out breath, “you’ve broken up with Stan.”

Wendy scowled. She should have expected that, but she didn’t realize Bebe would start gossiping about it immediately. She had thought she’d keep the secret for a few days and feel good about herself before telling everyone. “That’s none of your business.”

He took a seat at her couch. Instead of sprawling with both legs wide open (and occasionally a hand resting comfortably under his waistband), he sat cross-legged and proper. “Apparently it’s none of Stan’s business either because you didn’t tell him.” Kenny looked at her sympathetically. “Let’s talk about it, gal pal. What is on your mind?” He poked at her forehead, and she immediately swatted his hand away.

“There’s nothing to talk about! He never pays attention to me, and this metrosexuality thing is the last fucking straw. I hadn’t seen him outside of school in _weeks_ before he asked me on a date that involved me helping him pick out outfits.” Wendy practically threw up her hands in frustration. “And, when I did help, he still fucking chose the mesh shirt. Why did I need to be there? I need the state capitals memorized by Thursday!”

Kenny patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, girlfriend, I’ll put on some tea. Now, I think you need to think about this reasonably. Stan loves you. He was _so_ excited for you to see how gay he looked.”

“Are you not going to put on any tea?”

He glanced around the room nervously. “That’s just an expression people say when they’re ready to have a nice heart-to-heart between a gal and her gay best friend.”

She raised an eyebrow warily. “First, you aren’t gay. You’re the least gay boy I know. Second, Stan’s become a really bad boyfriend, and I don’t think I owe him anything.” Kenny opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. “I saw when you guys bullied Kyle today. If Stan was willing to do that to _him_ , imagine how quickly he’d drop _me_!”

“Look, I agree with you that Kyle didn’t deserve to be bullied for dressing like the son from an ad for hardware supplies.”

“You were there too!”

Kenny sighed. “He was really bringing down my status with the guys.”

Wendy looked irate. “What _guys_? You have three friends, and two of them were busy bullying Kyle with you!”

“The status quo is really important, Wendy. Craig’s already been a total bitch since he discovered he wears size long pants while the rest of us wear regular. He cannot become King Bee.”

“You realize Queen Bee is an actual thing, and you can’t just change its gender?”

“Wendy, your gender rigidity is really troubling. This is exactly the ignorance our pride rally today is aimed to combat.” He patted her shoulder gently. “You should consider going. Stan will be there.”

She pushed his hand back angrily. “I don’t want Stan to be there!”

“You have to admit, Wen, he’s pretty hunky.”

“Girls don’t say “hunky”! Gays don’t say “hunky”!”

“Maybe not enough of them have met Stan?”

Wendy glared at Kenny and inched away slightly on the couch. “If you just came here to talk your friend up, you can leave.”

“Babe, I am here for _you_. GBFs do not leave their hags in times of trouble.”

She pushed at Kenny roughly like it could dislodge the normal Kenny hidden underneath all the lilac. “You aren’t my gay best friend! You aren’t gay, and we’re barely friends!”

He frowned at her, his expression suddenly serious again. “Of course we aren’t friends. You’re breaking up with my best friend, and he has no fucking idea. I thought you’d want someone to talk to.”

“Not someone who fakes a lisp and gels their hair underneath a hood!”

Kenny touched his hair self-consciously and glared at Wendy. “Your roots are splitting,” he fired back. The insult itself didn’t phase her, but Kenny reverting to his fake metrosexuality was enough to set Wendy off.

“I don’t care if my roots are splitting! Or if I have a boyfriend! Or if people think I’m being insensitive! This town is full of idiots, and if I fit in, I’d hate myself.”

“You know girls with GBFs don’t act like such bitches.” Kenny nodded wisely. “We’re like a calming, well-dressed drug.”

“You’re not gay, Kenny!”

He reached out to her shoulder again, and they both stared at his hand as it continued to rest on Wendy like neither of them knew whether to pull back. “I am your GBF, though. And you need someone to talk to.” He frowned at her then paused worryingly to touch the wrinkles forming around his lips like he wasn’t still prepubescent.

“I have friends to talk to! Talking to them is the reason why _you’re_ here.”

He yanked his hand back decisively. “I thought you cared about people enough not to let your boyfriend be the last person to find out he got dumped.”

“Look, Stan and I don’t really talk.”

“So talk to me! There is nothing I love more than a good gossip sesh about hunky guys.” The flatness in Kenny’s voice betrayed how little he believed what he was saying. “What went wrong, babe?”

Wendy sighed. “I’m not going to talk to you until you stop pretending to be gay.”

Kenny scoffed lightly. “Oh, Wen. Metrosexuality and homosexuality are different, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be your gay best friend! I’m always there for my girlfriends.”

This metrosexuality trend was driving her up the wall. Wendy didn’t know if she should be happy gay culture was so accepted or angry it was so misappropriated. This was really bringing up a lot of questions for her social views. “Do you just think all girls fetishize having a gay best friend?”

“Maybe not openly.”

Wendy’s eyes glinted wickedly as she pulled her legs off the floor and tucked her knees into her chest. She was putting an end to this lie right now. “Well, you’re right.”

“What?”

“I totally do. I’ve always dreamed about it. You could, like, come into dressing rooms with me when we go shopping. I’d even have a boy to practice kissing on!”

Kenny’s mouth opened and shut a few times. “Yeah. That sounds like what a gay best friend does.”

Wendy, going for the gold, let her head rest gently on Kenny’s shoulder. “This is so great. I really needed it.”

“What are friends for?” he muttered stiffly, shifting his body away from her weight.

She let out what she hoped sounded like a contented sigh. “I’ve always wanted to be able to do this with you, you know? Like cuddle and talk?” She lifted her chin a little so their faces were brought together. “I’m so glad we finally can.”

“Finally can what?” It sounded like Kenny had to choke out the words, and his lisp had disappeared. Wendy was pretty sure she’d won this one.

“Just, like, be together without having to worry about anything happening. I didn’t realize you’d want to do that.” She brought her face a little closer and smirked as he recoiled in surprise. “It’s even better that you already know how to kiss girls. You can teach me all about boys!”

Kenny just stared at her like his brain couldn’t process that these were words Wendy Testaburger was actually saying to him. Her face moved even closer until she could feel his rapid breath on her face, then he flinched back and scooched towards the other side of the couch.

Wendy froze, a dark blush spreading rapidly across her face and neck. She didn’t know how she’d intended that to go, but this was definitely not her desired outcome. When her voice came out, it was so soft and pleading she could barely believe it was her. “Why’d you stop?”

His eyes never moved from her face, even as he remained silent in the face of her question. Wendy wanted to interrogate him – was he mad about Stan? How far was he taking this “gay” thing? Did he just not want to kiss Wendy? Finally, in a low voice Wendy barely recognized, he growled, “I forgot to put on my moisturizing lip balm today” and stood up from the couch.

Wendy’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

He rolled his eyes like he trusted Wendy to figure out if he were serious or not. “So serious. It’s amazing. It tastes like coconut. Anyway, I have a rally to get to, but if you ever need someone to talk to about this Stan thing… you can’t just let it fester.” He tugged up his hood, giving Wendy an unreadable expression before his face was obscured by the fabric.

“Have fun singing ABBA and pretending you don’t have a stack of porn magazines the height of your bed!” Wendy shouted back as Kenny turned toward the door.

She heard a faint “ _out of the malls and into the streets!_ ” as Kenny opened her door and disappeared from sight.


	8. Christian Rock Hard

Credit where credit’s due – it was awesome every time someone kicked Cartman’s ass. Kenny, Kyle and Stan had definitely tried to make sure he got a swift ass-kicking whenever it was deserved, but they rarely followed through. Token had kicked the shit out of him, and it had been hilarious. Token had also made an album that sold a million copies (even if his pussy genre could only go Myrrh), had an award show with elephants and Ferris wheels, and  _then_ kicked Cartman’s ass with panache when Cartman screwed him over.

Not to mention that he looked damn fine playing that bass.

Kenny’s only claim to fame was having met a dozen celebrities who cared about money more than art.

He had guessed that the girls would be somewhere in the crowd (although he hoped for their sakes they had escaped before the mob of Christians screaming at the words “fuck Jesus!”). Cartman had, of course, demanded the support of every girl in school on the desperate hope his next album wouldn’t have to be Christian Rock, and they made one thing clear: Token playing bass was the main attraction.

He might not have been so angry if he’d realized that from witnessing it firsthand (Kenny was already at the age where he could admit to himself that Token was sexy as hell) rather than from hearing Wendy and Token giggle about it privately between classes.

Kenny was still trying to wrap his head around the concept that Wendy had broken up with Stan, and Stan still did not know. Or, was it that she was _going to_ break up with Stan? Could she really believe Stan would guess they were broken up simply from lack of talking? Kenny was no stranger to disappearing without warning. The first time Stan acknowledged any kind of absence was last Christmas, after Kenny’s longest disappearance yet, which lasted only a few months but felt like a year. Even then, he’d barely noticed any difference upon Kenny’s reappearance.

Which was _weird_ because the guys could tell him a million stories about their times with Butters or Tweek, but if he asked why they were with Tweek instead of him so often, they had no answer.

He rejected Stan and Kyle’s offer to hold Moop practice. The band thing seemed tired now. After being convinced into pursuing careers like opera singer or boy band star, Kenny had a bad feeling that nothing good could come of the boys trying to form a band. Instead, he just lingered by the exit of the festival. He still had a fairly good view of the stage where Cartman was still sniffling on the ground. To the side, both Butters and Token were receiving stern lectures from their parents.

Kenny snorted bitterly. Butters’ parents lectured him about exploiting Christians, and Token’s lectured him about blowing through his money too quickly, but somehow Token’s parents were less fucked up?

Ah, shit. He’d become his dad if he kept having thoughts like that.

He sighed and turned away from the exit. There was nothing here for him to be angry about, and Kenny wasn’t one to hold onto unnecessary emotions. Stan was, certainly, the only victim in this situation, and Wendy was pretty damn close to being the only villain. He and Token were just going to be collateral damage.

He barely had time to think _forming bands always brings bad luck_ before he met eyes with Wendy Testaburger, who was also lingering at the exit. Kenny didn’t want to ask why she had stayed behind. He had no fucking idea how Stan was missing this because _to him_ it was abundantly obvious.

Wendy stared at him expectantly. They had only spoken once since Kenny found out about her plans with Stan, and _fuck_ metrosexuality was like a drug. Kenny couldn’t believe he had done any of that – talk to a girl who was hurting his best friend, act like a gay best friend from a sitcom, and flinch away from her at the end. It had all been a huge mistake, and Kenny suspected Wendy knew that.

“ _Enjoy your Christian rock?_ ” He asked finally. Wendy’s eyes shifted to his hood before returning to his eyes, and Kenny frowned to himself as he left the hood up. He had a message to send.

“You’re here, too.”

“ _I came with Stan to support Kyle._ ” Kenny punctuated Stan’s name deliberately so it could be heard through his hood.

Wendy crossed her arms across her chest. “All the girls came.”

“ _And which groupie is waiting for Token?_ ”

She looked slightly startled, and Kenny couldn’t believe she hadn’t guessed why he was angry. “I’m allowed to be friends with Token.”

“ _Be friends with Token after you make sure your boyfriend doesn’t find out you dumped him from someone else,_ ” he spat. He had to be very careful to enunciate to make sure his anger could permeate the food.

“I didn’t dump him!” She froze at Kenny’s disbelieving look. “I’m just… waiting until he notices something is wrong.” Kenny nodded sarcastically, and she shot him a dark glare. “I’m not cheating on him with Token.”

“ _So you wouldn’t try to do something with another boy?_ ” The words came out before Kenny could think them over, and Wendy stiffened noticeably.

“I did that because you were determined to set society’s image of homosexuals back ten years.”

Kenny, in resignation, tugged off his hood. “Would you have been thinking of society if I’d kissed you back?”

“Go away, Kenny,” she muttered as a dark flush spread across her face.

“I’m just trying to figure out if those are the platonic things you’d do with Token while you wait for Stan to get his head out of his ass – where, I add, it’s going to stay for a very long time.”

“Sorry, maybe I think Token is _hunky_.”

Metrosexuality was a drug. Jesus. “This is cheating, for the record. What you’re doing is cheating.”

He cringed as Wendy’s eyes widened in horror. She looked like those words had cut her up. “We haven’t done anything,” she muttered defensively.

“And we?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t tell if you’re being a good friend or just jealous.”

Something snapped. Kenny wasn’t quite sure what, but it was definitely snapped. “Who would I be jealous of, Wendy? Your boyfriend or the boy you’re using so you have a safety net when you break up with him?”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Wendy looked close to tears, and Kenny softened a little. He wasn’t any less angry. He just didn’t want her to be sad while he was angry.

He stared at her for a few seconds. Token would be freed from his parents at any minute, and he didn’t want Wendy to have to face him after crying. The bitch probably hated showing those signs of being a real, weak person. “You made a mistake.”

Wendy stared at him incredulously, tears brimming in her eyes.

Fucking _bitch_.

“With Stan. With Token.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off.

“You made a mistake, and you’re gonna fall for me some day.”

He gave her a final frown and tugged his hood up, walking away from the exit and trying to ignore the sound of Token calling her name as he approached.


	9. Raisins

Wendy didn’t talk to Kenny again after that, and a little part of him didn’t mind. He didn’t regret anything he’d said. That same little part of him wanted to curl up and die every time Stan said something oblivious about Wendy or Kenny caught sight of her and Token during class. Except, it _didn’t_ curl up and die. Because Kenny had been right. Wendy was supposed to be with him, and she was going to keep making mistakes until she was.

Kenny didn’t know what he would do when the day finally came that Wendy and Stan officially broke up. It was kind of funny that he thought it even warranted a plan, but he was caught as off-guard as Stan when Bebe tapped on his shoulder in front of everyone and simply informed him “Wendy breaks up”.

His first reaction was one of seething resentment. Wendy hadn’t just waited for Stan to find out from someone else. She had just _sent_ someone else to do her dirty work. He noticed Bebe’s eyes flicker over Stan’s shoulder and land on him for an instant, and Kenny was struck dumb by the possibilities of what she might know about him.

He spent the next few days trailing around half-heartedly as the boys attempted to perk Stan up. Even Raisins, Kenny’s favorite establishment that ever violated child labor and child pornography laws, was not enough to distract him from the feeling gnawing at his stomach. He wondered if any of the other boys had known. What if Wendy’s news had reached everyone before Stan, and they were just playing dumb for his benefit?

Kenny was angry. He, again, lacked a plan, but Wendy Testaburger was going to _cry_. She had turned his best friend into a faggy goth kid, embarrassed him in front of the whole grade, and was just the fucking worst. He didn’t have the words to explain it. He just knew that Wendy Testaburger was the worst person he had ever met.

He finally cornered her at the end of the week, tearing down his parka hood before she could make any lame excuses about not understanding him. “Fucking _Bebe_ , dude?”

“Look, he already sent Kyle to talk to me. I thought this would stop.”

“Stan didn’t _send me_ , Wendy! You fucking blind-sided him, and I’m his friend!”

Wendy attempted to skirt past Kenny, but he blocked her passage again. “I don’t think you’ve been fully honest with Stan either, Kenny!” Her voice got even more high-pitched when she was upset. He would make her cry.

“None of it was mine to tell.”

Wendy bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t ask for you to choose sides in this! I don’t think Stan would, either.”

Kenny frowned and stepped away from her. “You think this is choosing sides? You’re a bad person, Wendy! This is a lot deeper than choosing sides!”

Well, he had done what he’d set out to do. It felt just as unsatisfying as he’d known it would. “Stop caring,” she muttered finally, easily stepping past Kenny.

“I did that awhile ago,” he responded automatically. He thought he might have heard a muffled sob, but he didn’t turn around to check.

In less than ten sentences, he’d made Wendy Testaburger cry.

_Good_.


	10. Good Times With Weapons

How much whipped cream did Kevin intend it to take when he said he’d “make [Kenny] feel better”? Kenny stood in the grocery store clutching four cans of Reddi Whip to his chest, imagining how sick it would make him to eat _that_ much whipped cream. Realistically, he’d probably die.

Still, Kenny trusted his brother to a certain extent. He trusted him enough to open up about what happened with Butters. Those were problems he couldn’t put on Karen. Kenny didn’t want her to ever know what it felt like to do that to someone _then_ hear them bark on command after you refuse to bring them proper medical care. Kevin probably enjoyed hearing about that shit, if Kenny was being totally honest. He had promised that something in these Reddi Whip cans would make Kenny forget it had ever happened, and Kenny was willing to trust him on those matters.

In a rash decision, he grabbed another two cans before turning in the aisle to come face-to-face with Wendy Testaburger. Kenny wrinkled his nose under the hood. He could see her parents by the vegetable section now, but he wouldn’t have guessed that she would have come with them even if he had noticed them.

“ _What do you want_?” Kenny groaned, suddenly eager to find out what Kevin’s plan was. That kid knew the alphabet of ways to forget your problems.

“I found out about your battle! That was really irresponsible of you, Kenny. Butters could have died.”

“ _I’m really irresponsible. And Butters didn’t die. Shouldn’t you be busy trying to get the image of Cartman’s dick out of your fragile little mind?”_

“You’re talking really fast.”

Kenny was so glad he’d gotten the chance to kick Token’s ass. Everyone seemed to think Craig was the real enemy, but Kenny honestly had to restrain himself from using the ninja star intentionally a second time. Fuck Token, and fuck Wendy Testaburger.

_“I said aren’t you thinking about Cartman’s dick?”_

Wendy turned bright red. “Ew, Kenny, that’s really immature!”

Underneath the hood, Kenny grinned bitterly. _“Oh, I forgot! He’s one of the many boys you have a crush on. I’ll encourage him to do it again for you, then.”_

“Fuck off.”

_“You initiated this conversation_.”

Wendy looked torn between wanting to storm back to her parents and not wanting to leave. Inwardly, Kenny felt a little proud. It was kind of exactly the effect he wanted to have. In the end, she just crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at Kenny. He wasn’t quite sure if that was the reaction he’d wanted.

_“How’d Craig and his friends think of mine and Stan’s super secret way to get things without parental permission?”_ Kenny asked finally.

Wendy rolled her eyes. “As if I’d ever help them get weapons. It’s not that creative, asshole. You’re just making them feel uncomfortable and guilty.”

_“Still works every time_.”

She uncrossed her arms and sighed. “What are you doing with so much whipped cream, Kenny?”

Did she want to make small talk? Fucking Christ, Kenny hated everything about her. Plus, he didn’t even know what he was doing with that much whipped cream. “ _Kevin’s having a party.”_

Wendy _hmm_ ed and tapped her foot nervously on the ground. “You know you can be honest. My parents gave me that talk when I got into fourth grade.”

“ _What talk_?”

“The drug talk! Obviously!”

_“Drug talk? Why?”_ Kenny paused to stare at the cans in his hand, reflecting on what she could mean.

Wendy scoffed. “Does Wendy Testaburger know more about _drugs_ than Kenny McCormick? Unprecedented!” Kenny’s eyes narrowed.

_“What are you talking about?”_

“Take the hood off, and I’ll tell you.” Wendy’s voice was suddenly full of warmth as he taunted him. Well, maybe it wasn’t a change in _her_ voice. For a second, Kenny forgot how much he hated her, and it made his heard pound to realize she had never hated him.

Like a robot, Kenny pulled off the hood of his parka. In the middle of the grocery store. He could have sworn he saw Sheila Broflovski a little earlier. “Drug talk,” Kenny repeated demandingly.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen!” Wendy had smiled triumphantly for a second, but she frowned again when she looked back at the cans. “It’s laughing gas. It, uh, dissociatives you? It’s like ketamine,” she said with some certainty. Her parents’ drug lecture had gone, for the most part, totally over her head. It had included clips from TV shows they assumed she watched and had been completely unbearable, in addition to _way_ too detailed.

“What’s ketamine?”

“It also dissociatives you,” Wendy snapped.

“What’s dissociativing?” Kenny was genuinely interested. His grip on the cans had tightened unconsciously. A set of Sharpies when he was six had taught him that he liked things that made him feel weird. He really hoped that was what Kevin planned.

Wendy looked at him disconcertingly. “Don’t do it, Kenny! It’s bad for you!”

“Why?”

“It melts your brain!”

“My brain melts if I dissociative?” He was struggling to follow this conversation. It, honestly, reminded him of when people tried to talk to him and just _couldn’t_ understand what he was trying to say.

Wendy nodded tightly.

Kenny gave the cans an appraising glance like he had misjudged them before, then he shrugged calmly. “I don’t even know what Kevin’s plans for them are. If you’d excuse me,” he tugged his hood up quickly. “ _We’re in public_.”

“Fuck yourself, Kenny!” Kenny stepped past her, and Wendy balled her hands into fists. “Just don’t do drugs!”

_“Worst case scenario?”_

Wendy sighed. “I know everything I say is gonna sound like “drugs are bad, m’kay?”.”

_“Wendy, today I took a boy’s eye out and helped expose the world to Eric Cartman’s junk. Even if drugs are bad, I’m willing to bet there’s way worse.”_

Kenny barely listened later that night when Kevin’s friend ranted about “seeing Heaven” last time he’d tried these. He wanted to inform the older boy that all you had to do to see Heaven was die (and be a Mormon). He hated when people made a big deal about trying stuff for the first time. He just always asked himself worst case scenario, and the answer was always the same.

He fucking died all the time.

So before even waiting for Kevin to demonstrate, Kenny grabbed a can, held it down, and breathed in the gas inside. Then he just held the breath in. Kevin and his friend were looking at him with interest, and Kenny felt a little bad that he wasn’t feeling anything.

Until he toppled backwards, and the air escaped his lungs, and Kevin was roaring in laughter, and Kenny was pretty sure he was too.

He didn’t see Heaven. He couldn’t put any words to how he felt. The least vague Kenny could get was “perfect”.

Then, slowly, he descended back into himself. There had been no word Kenny knew of to describe the feeling, but he was a smart kid. He could feel memories rushing back into him that he must have forgotten for that minute of bliss. That must’ve been the dissociativing. Kenny left the real world, and he felt perfect, and then Kenny returned to the real world, and all the imperfect memories that were, unfortunately, realities returned.

And that included every fucking memory of Wendy Testaburger except kissing her in Treasure Cove.


	11. Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset

This was, without a doubt, the best night of Kenny’s young life. It was nearly impossible to get the South Park girls to make out in the bushes on any normal day. It was actually impossible to get them anywhere near drugs. Not tonight. Red and Lola had split a pill of something that their video playset had promised was ecstasy with him. He had no idea how that product was legal, but American big business was a friend to Kenny. He was totally about to make out with Lola Thomas. This would give him bragging rights for weeks. If, of course, his friends didn’t throw up at the idea of touching a girl. It would give him bragging rights with Clyde, and that would have to be good enough.

Kenny had thought the night was ruined when Wendy brought a teacher to help break up the party like the world’s biggest narc. He had to think of it like that or succumb to being impressed by her strength and integrity. That was the worst case scenario. Kenny liked nothing more than a stupid spoiled whore. Lola had started panicking because she thought Mr. Slave would find out and tell her mom that she’d done a drug, and Kenny led her out the back door to simmer down.

He pulled his hood down, struggling to get his chattering jaw under control before the likely event that he accidentally bit Lola. Lola was grinding her jaw and yawning, but she didn’t seem to be tired at all as she shook at an almost Tweek-like frequency. Kenny’s eyes flicked away from her dilated pupils to survey his surroundings wildly. It was great to be outside. The air was petting him. Splotches of color would illuminate the darkness in constant motion. Fucking dandy out here, really.

Kenny has ascertained that he liked drugs.

The colors slowed down as he caught sight of a real movement. A purple beret that seemed illuminated in the darkness was bobbing past. A smile tugged at his lips, and he glanced down at Lola affectionately.

“I told my friend I’d walk her home. Do you want me to bring you back inside?”

A look of confusion crossed Lola’s face, but she nodded and allowed Kenny to wrap a hand around her waist and lead her to the door.

“Great night,” he said with a genuine grin as he opened the door. It really was the best night. Every rational thought was telling him to stay here with Lola, but he didn’t have many rational thoughts. The way the hat shone in the dark told him that he was supposed to be with it.

He had told her not to walk home alone. Mr. Slave should have driven her. Now it had fallen on Kenny.

He had to run to catch up with her. It felt the _best_. As Wendy came into focus, Kenny realized she had her shoulders hunched and was walking away from him very quickly. He probably should have guessed hearing footsteps running after her at night would freak her out.

She really should have run. This was why Wendy needed someone to walk her home.

“Wendy,” Kenny called. “It’s me, your friend – Kenny.”

Wendy stopped and turned around. Her face was red, her eyes puffy, and she was tearing up from the cold. Kenny felt a lurch in his stomach when he realized she might have been crying.

That wasn’t right. She was supposed to be congratulating herself for standing up for herself. No other girl in school could have done it.

“Are you okay?”

Wendy took in his wild eyes and rapidly chattering jaw. He probably even had some of Lola’s gaudy lipstick on his face to give him a Joker-esque look. It was probably not the best style, but Kenny didn’t really care. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Really good. Great.” Kenny nodded quickly.

Wendy wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket. Kenny was pretty sure she’d been crying. It was just not right. “You look kinda serial killer-y, Kenny.”

“Unfortunate.”

She looked at him curiously. “I kinda wanna be alone right now.”

“It’s nighttime.”

“You’re not a superhero, Kenny.”

Huh. That was the best idea. He hoped he would remember this idea for more than five minutes. “I’m going to walk you home.”

Wendy sighed. “Why? I ruined your party!” Kenny had thought he caught the way her eyes flickered to him when she crashed the party as he had his arms around both Lola and Red, probably grinning like a maniac.

“The Whore-Off will be fun,” said Kenny, meaning it. At least the party was broken up with the promise of something awesome.

“Do you think Mr. Slave stands a chance? Everyone will hate me if he doesn’t win.” Wendy wiped her running nose again.

“I won’t hate you.”

Wendy frowned. “You _already_ hate me.”

Kenny looked at her quizzically. “Oh, right. I won’t anymore.”

“Why?”

“Literally every other girl is a stupid spoiled whore.”

“You looked like you liked it.”

“Loved it.”

Wendy looked at him incredulously. “Why are you here?”

“To walk you home. Let’s go.” Kenny touched her waist briefly and stumbled away. Wendy fell into step with him a second after, glancing down at her waist in surprise.

Wendy was quiet for a bit until she sighed again. “I should have just worked harder to be a stupid spoiled whore.”

Kenny wrinkled his nose. “Ew. No. You looked awful like that.”

“Wow, thank you, Kenny.”

He beamed at her. “I just mean you look better like this.”

Wendy narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay, Kenny? You look a bit like Tweek.”

“There might have been drugs at the party,” Kenny admitted.

“Might have?”

“Well, as in, I took something I was told was a drug. So that might have been a drug.”

“You can’t do drugs! Jesus Christ! Kenny – you’re nine!”

“Nine and a half.”

“Do you know how bad that is for your developing brain?” Wendy sounded awfully shrill. Her voice was really _very_ high-pitched sometimes.

“No. I don’t really want to, by the way.”

Wendy pushed him in exasperation. “I cannot believe you.”

“Really?”

She glared at him. “No, I can.”

“Seems like something I would do.”

Kenny looked away from Wendy to focus on how _amazing_ the cool breeze felt on his overheated face. It felt like his face was bare without his hood, but tonight was the night to be naked. He tilted his face up to the sky, stopping in his footsteps as he watched the stars swirling around each other. His mouth fell open in awe, and he grabbed Wendy’s arm tightly. “Do you see the stars moving, Wendy? That is _so cool_.”

Wendy looked up at the sky then back at Kenny, showing a bit of concern noticeable even to Kenny. “Don’t do drugs again, Kenny.”

“They came with the video set!” He said defensively. “I just wanted to have fun with my _gals_.”

Wendy was really the prettiest girl Kenny had ever seen, he reflected. It was crazy because the whole world was _so_ attractive, but he just really liked Wendy. She was probably his favorite. She was smart and funny and pretty and so nice. Kenny didn’t know how he had ever been mad at her. He knew he would never be able to stay away from her ever again after seeing her tonight. It seemed like keeping her around was the most important thing in the world at that moment.

He hadn’t even been listening to whatever she had said, but she was looking at him expectantly and slightly judgmentally. Kenny beamed at her. “I think you’re perfect. Did you know that? You are what every girl should aspire to be. You’re- you’re the epitome of a person.”

Wendy blushed, staring at him like she had no clue what was happening. “It’s pronounced ep-it-oh-me, not ep-i-tome,” she corrected softly. “And that’s not what ‘epitome’ means.”

“Were you listening to me?” Kenny asked insistently. “I think you’re perfect.”

She scuffed up some snow with the toe of her boot. “Yeah. I was listening. You’re on drugs, and I don’t really know what’s happening to you. We aren’t friends, Kenny. You made that very clear.”

“Why would I do that?”

He hadn’t forgotten why he hated Wendy. He had forgotten what had happened two minutes ago; Kenny was pretty sure he’d gotten Lola alone and given her up, which was a stupid thing for a fourth grade boy to do. It wasn’t like the girls were going to stay sexually liberated for long. He didn’t think he could forget Wendy, though. She was sort of the point of it all. To forget her would be to forget something much bigger than Kenny was in any state or age to understand.

Stan was stupid. Kenny had always known Stan was stupid. He’d dated Wendy for a year, and he hadn’t kissed Wendy any more than Kenny had. Stan had even been _relieved_ when Mr. Slave came to break up the party, and it wasn’t because Wendy had arrived like any normal boy would be excited. That kid had a lot of problems to work out, and Kenny pitied him. He pitied him because Stan was confused, scared, and because he had missed his chance with the most amazing girl in the world because he was too nervous to appreciate her. He understood. She made Kenny nervous, and he was pretty sure about what he wanted. He just wouldn’t miss his chance like Stan had.

He cursed himself as he realized that he had zoned out again while staring at Wendy’s lips moving. He really liked the way lips moved when people spoke. People should speak more often. Not Kenny, though. He hated speaking. Where was his hood? Was it around his neck? He tugged it back up.

Wendy stopped talking to glare at him. “You can’t just pull your hood up whenever things you don’t like happen!”

“ _I like this_.”

Wendy looked him over for a second, then she giggled a little. “I can see your jaw chattering under your hood. It looks like little ripples in the fabric.” Sternly, she added, “but this isn’t funny, and you shouldn’t do it ever again.”

“ _Thanks, mom_.”

“I’m not being a mom!” She shrieked. “It’s not cool to dress up like a slut or do drugs or wear hoods!”

“ _I don’t think hoods are the problem_.”

“Your hood is a problem, Kenny! Take it off!” She reached out to wrestle the hood down, and Kenny fought back defensively. He finally managed to catch her by the wrists and push back so she had her wrists above her head in a submissive position.

“ _The hood is fine_ ,” he said, wondering if there was something better he was supposed to be saying in this position. Wendy was still breathing heavily from the fight, and she looked _so_ pretty. Maybe he was supposed to say that. That seemed right. “ _You look so pretty_.”

She blushed and muttered, “I can’t understand you through the hood. Can I have my hands back, Kenny?”

“ _No, they’re mine now_.”

“What’s that, Kenny? You said I should kick you and run?”

“ _I know you can understand me. You turn red faster than Neville’s rememberall.”_

Wendy stopped fighting back for a second to smile at him incredulously. “Are you a nerd, Kenny? I thought you guys were all about _Lord of the Rings_.”

“ _I was stuck in Cartman’s body for that. It was against my will. I’d choose_ Harry Potter _with Clyde any day.”_

“Like up his enormously fat ass?”

“ _Yup. Like a gerbil_.”

“You guys play weird games.”

“ _Not all our games can have the instant brand recognition of Laundromat owners_.” He deftly pulled her wrists together and caught them both with one hand. “’ _And in the darkness bind them’. Am I right?”_

“It’s ‘in the darkness _find_ them’, Kenny.”

Kenny shook his head. “ _It really isn’t_.”

Wendy smirked knowingly. “I was testing you. You’re such a geek! Why don’t you let people know you’re a geek?”

“ _If I’m a geek, you’re a geek_.”

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird,” Wendy shot back.

Kenny didn’t really understand what she was saying, but it would be pretty cool to be a bird so he’d accept it without question. Wendy twisted a little in his grip, and he pushed her arms back. “ _No, you don’t.”_

“This sort of defeats the purpose of walking me home.”

He thought it over. In a way he didn’t quite get yet, he knew he liked Wendy like this. He wondered why that was. He’d probably find out in a few years. This was certainly more fun than walking her home, but he had to keep her safe. That was and would always be his top priority in the whole world. He should really become a superhero; of course Wendy was brilliant and had the best ideas. “ _I’ll let you go if I can hold your hand_.”

“I actually didn’t catch that. For real this time.”

Kenny gave her a doubtful look, but he pulled his hood off with his free hand. “I said ‘I’ll let you go if I can hold your hand’.”

“Oh.” Wendy turned bright red, and Kenny was becoming aware enough to see a little sadness on her face. It might have been fear. He didn’t know which he’d prefer.

“I’m fine staying like this,” Kenny said quickly. “No pressure.”

“No, no. I’d, um, like that. You can hold my hand.”

Something was pressing on him that made his heart beat even faster than it was. Kenny reached up to touch his chest in surprise; it was pounding so hard he was sure he felt his bones rattling. How much of that was from drugs?

“Are you still dating Token?”

Wendy’s eyes followed his hand as he kept it pressed against his chest. He was a little soothed by his heart beat. Wendy’s heart beat would probably be even better, but he didn’t think she’d like that. He didn’t want to do something Wendy wouldn’t like. “No,” she said finally, holding the eye contact. “We broke up.”

Kenny had no idea how that wasn’t common knowledge, but he was so glad Stan didn’t know. He was worried Stan would try to get her back, and he would probably succeed because who didn’t like Stan? For one thing, he spoke in public. Kenny couldn’t compete with that. He didn’t want to.

“Why?”

Wendy looked away. “He thought I wasn’t over Stan.”

“Are you?”

She looked back at him, searching his face for something. Kenny had no idea what she was looking for. Maybe she was just relearning it because she hadn’t seen his face in a few months. “I am.”

Kenny felt a weight he didn’t know was on his heart lift. “Good.”

He let go of her wrists and extended his hand. Wendy took it without hesitation, a small smile spreading across her face. Kenny couldn’t imagine his smile ever being bigger even with Red and Lola. It hurt his muscles a little, and Wendy seemed to notice because she laughed lightly and squeezed his hand.

“I’m really glad you’re talking to me again, Kenny. I hope you still want to tomorrow.” This time she definitely looked sad. Wendy couldn’t get sad. It wasn’t allowed.

He squeezed back. “I always wanted to.”

She looked down the road. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Kenny couldn’t stop talking the whole walk home (unless he was surprised by lights on in a house’s window). He realized a few things as they walked. First, if he closed his eyes, he could see a kaleidoscope. He made Wendy guide him for a block as he appreciated the sights. Second, he had never felt this happy in his life, and he didn’t think it was due to the drugs. Third, the fresh air stopped being fun when he got cold and started shaking. Fourth, the cold was worth it when Wendy wrapped her scarf around both of them to share, bringing their faces closer together.

They stopped in front of Wendy’s house, but she didn’t release his hand. She just stood in the driveway.

“Will you promise me you’ll never do a drug again?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. He was thankful to the experience for giving him the ability to forgive Wendy. He wasn’t sure if he would have walked her home without it, but he knew he’d have thought about it and wished he had all night. Still, he wished he had been sober for their reconciliation. He wanted to know how happy he’d be without it; he was pretty sure the answer was ‘very’. Very happy. “For you, anything.”

“I was so upset with those whipped cream cans.”

“I was, too,” he admitted. “That was the point.”

Her face crumpled. “I don’t want you to do that because of me.”

“I told you I never would again. You can trust me.” With some reluctance, Kenny pulled the scarf off and wrapped it around her neck one more time. “I’m going to deserve you someday.”

She laughed sharply in surprise. “You think I’m so much better than I am.”

“Don’t say that.”

Wendy looked at him strangely like she was waiting for Kenny to act like a fool and try to hate her again.

“Did you kiss someone tonight?”

“No one. Did you kiss Token?”

She shook her head.

“Stan?”

“Once,” she admitted. “It was only because he found the Clitoris.”

Kenny recoiled, dropping her hand. “Woah. Woah. What? You hadn’t _kissed_ , and he found the clitoris?”

Wendy looked confused. “Yeah. It told him to save Terrance and Philip.”

“… Your clitoris can talk?”

“The Clitoris doesn’t belong to anyone, Kenny.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I think someone’s given you faulty information, Wendy. I don’t think, um. I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“What are you talking about, Kenny?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking Kenny was stupid beyond belief. It was, actually, a little funny.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, Kenny, tell me what you think the Clitoris is!”

“What I _think_ it is? I know what it is!”

“Then say it!” She stamped her foot. “One of us is wrong, and I think it’s you.”

“It’s like,” he paused as he thought about how to phrase this, “a mini, girl penis?”

Wendy’s jaw dropped. “I have one?”

“I would guess.”

Her face scrunched up in adorable concentration that Kenny took as a sign that she was trying to figure out what her clitoris was.

“I can show you.” Her eyes widened, and he backtracked quickly. “Like on google! On google, Wendy!”

“I could – Um, if you – That is, I want – You can’t, um – Lots of kids, I think…”

“You’re usually a better talker than this.”

She took a deep breath. “I want to see _mine_.”

“Oh.”

“Lots of kids do it! It’s like playing doctor! You can’t touch it. It’s _weird_ down there. Like I expect to find a swamp monster inside the little flaps, and I don’t want it to get your fingers or anything.”

Kenny froze. Before he knew what was going on, he was doubled over laughing, slightly worried he would suffocate before the fit passed. One look at Wendy told him she was incredibly pissed, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t been kidding. It just made him laugh harder.

“You’re so immature, Kenny!”

“Stop, dude,” he gasped out. “You’re killing me.” He put a hand on her shoulder to hold him up as he laughed.

Wendy shrugged him off. “You’re being mean!”

He stopped immediately. “I wasn’t laughing at you! I mean, I was, but not because of the, um, doctor thing. That sounds – Let’s have a playdate sometime.”

This wasn’t actually happening. Kenny couldn’t believe this was happening. It was the weirdest night of his life. He had tried a drug that he hadn’t even heard of before. All the other girls were acting like stupid, spoiled whores. Wendy was here, and she was perfect. This had panned out better than he ever thought something could. _Doctor_.

Deciding to push his luck, Kenny asked softly, “Can I kiss you first?”

She nodded mutely.

If this had been the best night of his life, this was _certainly_ the best five seconds of his life. Neither of them moved, and it wasn’t anything like it had been at Treasure Cove, but she wasn’t going to forget, and Kenny wasn’t going to get taken away from her. They were both here to stay, and he had a playdate with her.

What a night.

“It wasn’t like that with Stan,” she said, lingering an inch away from his face.

“Good.”

Her lip twitched. “I really like you, Kenny.”

“I like you, too.” He paused, deciding whether or not he should try to kiss her again, and stepped back. “Your parents will be worried about why you aren’t home.”

She nodded, and Kenny’s heart sank as he realized he really didn’t want her to leave. She didn’t look like she did either, and that was good enough. She kissed his cheek and, without another word, ran down the driveway to her door. She paused on the threshold and gave him a small wave, and he waved back.

It was the best night. The _best_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not going to show two nine-year-olds playing doctor or my name isn't Peter File  
> no but actually i won't  
> p.s. you guys can leave episode requests


	12. Mr. Garrison's Fancy New Vagina

“But how can it be blood flow when blood is a liquid?”

“It, uh, becomes solid somehow.”

“Like by freezing?”

“No, it’s definitely warm.”

“I think it has to be by freezing,” Wendy said matter-of-factly like the answer had been reached and the conversation could be ended. “It’s the only way.”

Kenny shook his head in amusement, willing to let Wendy believe whatever she wanted to believe. Their agreement was _supposed_ to be that Kenny would find out the answers to her questions about sex, and Wendy would accept those answers even when Kenny pulled them out of his ass (“it’s where girl’s sperm come from – they call it ‘g’ for ‘generates sperm’”). “Sure, Wendy. The blood freezes.”

She smiled proudly and nodded her head once. “That’s what I thought.”

Kenny didn’t know if he was allowed to call her his girlfriend in the privacy of his thoughts – he did it anyway, but it felt a little dirty about it. Their rationale was this: if they weren’t dating, Kenny wasn’t dating his best friend’s ex, and therefore they weren’t morally obligated to tell Stan anything.

Never mind the fact that they’d spend hours after school just sitting on the stoop and talking or taking a walk by Stark’s Pond – Wendy wasn’t allowed to have boys over to play, and Kenny didn’t want to subject her to the horrors of the McCormick household. He had only gotten her a few weeks ago; he couldn’t lose her again just because his home sucked balls. He was competing with the Blacks and the Marshes, after all – the richest family in South Park and the warmest (and most ridiculous) family.

He was pretty sure she was his girlfriend. She was definitely his best friend, and he’d seen her vagina for a few seconds. That seemed to add up to dating? Kenny’s only experience with relationships were the couples he saw in pornos, and he wasn’t totally sure that they actually loved each other.

He stood up from the bench and extended a gloved hand to help her up. It wasn’t even discussed now; Kenny always walked her home. The other boys hadn’t even noticed that Kenny was never on the bus back from school; they never noticed most of his absences. Usually it pissed him off, but if he got more time with Wendy without any of them asking questions, he wouldn’t argue.

“So Mrs. Garrison,” Wendy said softly after a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence. “Can we go over that again?”

It was all they could talk about. Kenny was pretty sure his friends were off having some racist adventure where Kyle had a guy’s junk put in his knees; he hadn’t really been listening, and most conversations were so muffled by his hood that he had to be paying intense attention to keep up. He hoped they were having fun. Anything to keep Stan distracted was a good thing.

“They cut the penis and flip it inside out?” Kenny said in a questioning voice. He had explained this a few times, but he never quite convinced himself, and he certainly hadn’t convinced Wendy.

She chewed on her bottom lip like she tended to do whenever she was deep in thought. “So all vaginas are just inverted penises?”

“Probably?” Kenny secretly liked the idea that he had a vagina somewhere tucked away in his body. He had seen it on video before, but seeing Wendy’s had been life changing. He had been _jealous_. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but he’d asked her a million questions about what life was like for people who got to live with them. It seemed right somehow.

He still liked his lil buddy, though. He wasn’t going to give that up for the world. Maybe there was a surgery where he could have _both_? That seemed ideal.

Wendy kicked a pebble along the side of the road, stopping every time it flew off to the side to chase it and kick it back where it belonged. It looked like it was absorbing a lot of her attention, and Kenny liked watching Wendy think. Finally, she asked, “Would you get one of those surgeries everyone’s getting?”

 _Yeah_ , Kenny thought privately, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Instead, he said jokingly, “Are you? Bigger tits again?”

Wendy kicked the pebble too hard, and it went flying into a snowdrift. “That’s not funny, Kenny! You _laughed_ at me!”

“Only because I like you how you are naturally,” Kenny said with a genuine smile. “If you really wanted to have huge knockers, you know I’d support you.”

“I know you would,” Wendy muttered darkly. “I don’t like when you bring that up. I wasted three thousand dollars to get made fun of by every boy in school and called a slut by all the girls. It _sucked_ , Kenny.”

Kenny smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Wendy. I wouldn’t laugh if I’d thought it was what you really wanted.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Wendy said sadly. “I made a mistake, okay?”

He’d pissed her off. Or made her sad. He didn’t know which was worse. Changing the topic to the only thing that had been on his mind since he found out what a sex change was, he asked, “Would you still like me if I didn’t have a dick?”

Wendy paused, searching Kenny’s face for any sign that he wasn’t making a joke. He looked at her seriously, holding her eye contact until she blinked a few times, and a soft smile spread across her face. “Of course I would, Kenny. You can be whatever you want to be.”

She looked surprised as he threw his arms around her for a tight hug. They still didn’t kiss very often. It seemed like something that should be reserved for dating, and Kenny limited himself to the moments where it was the only way he could possibly express how great he thought she was.

“Kenny,” she said quietly, her face still buried in his neck. “Do you… _want_ a sex change? Is that what feels right?”

He pulled back, shrugging a shoulder innocently and looking down at the snow with a light blush spreading over his face. Wendy reached out to lift his hood up over his face and tightening it for him. He gave her a grateful look that she’d never see, but Wendy seemed like she understood.

Wendy had the uncanny ability to know whenever Kenny needed the hood back on. She preferred it off most of the time because she _still_ couldn’t understand him well (he didn’t think she was even trying at this point), and he felt instantly more at ease with the familiar fabric covering his face.

“ _You really are perfect_ ,” he said slowly, enunciating every word.

Wendy turned red, a small smile creeping over her lips. “That’s your opinion.”

“ _It’s the truth_.”

She slipped her tiny fingers through his and squeezed his hand tightly. They walked the rest of the way home in silence. It didn’t happen all that often, but it was comfortable. Wendy’s brain was always whirring enough to keep her preoccupied, and Kenny preferred not having to speak when he had things to think about. They both knew that about the other and respected it. Kenny spent most of his lunch periods with her in the library just watching her study, wondering what intelligent thoughts were going on in that pretty head (or occasionally daydreaming about whatever was for lunch).

Outside her house, she tugged his hood down quickly to plant a quick peck on his lips. He didn’t have to ask what it was for; Wendy always knew when the moment was right. “I like you in whatever body you’re in,” she said in a hushed voice like she was sharing top secret information. “If you ever want to come to one of mine and Bebe’s tea parties and play dress up with us, you can. Bebe loves you.”

Kenny kissed her a second time, still close-lipped. They hadn’t gotten past that point, and he wasn’t going to rush her when just that felt so perfect. He tugged his hood back up so he wouldn’t have to respond, but Wendy nodded like Kenny had given her a real answer.

“I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”

“ _Bye, Wendy_ ,” Kenny said with a wave, watching as she walked up her driveway, throwing him glances over her shoulder a few times before she opened the door and disappeared inside.

She was definitely his girlfriend.

 _Shit_.


End file.
